From Ashes to Embers
by Kilyra
Summary: Struggling with loss and purpose following the victory over the archdemon, Drea Cousland discovers the worst is yet to come. Personal and political woes are nothing compared to the evil on the horizon. Origin and Awakening spoilers.
1. Beginning's End

**~Beginning's End~**

The sound of clanging swords rang out from the top of the tower as the forces of Denerim fought tirelessly to push back the wave of darkspawn on the roof of Fort Drakon. Her focus remained on the archdemon, firing another bolt from the ballista which hit its mark. The dragon roared in anger, snapping at the bolt firmly stabbed into its side. With its powerful jaws, it crunched many of the arrows that were also protruding from between its scales, but the ballista bolt was out of reach. And that's when she saw it; her opportunity.

A cry of determination burst from her lips as she charged the archdemon with her sword raised high above her head. For that moment, she could no longer feel a thing – no pain, no fatigue – all that existed was the brief opening the archdemon gave her after a long and fierce battle. The sword met little resistance as she raced down the length of its neck, splitting open its flesh. The archdemon shuddered but was unable to react, and heavily slumped to the ground. With her face twisted in rage, the Warden plunged her sword through the base of the creature's head, ending the fight once and for all.

A tunnel of light ruptured from where her sword was still sunk. A small voice in her mind screamed for her to back off, but her body was beyond rationality. She simply reacted and tried to free her weapon to no avail. The darkspawn, however, were quick to flee much to the surprise of the defending force. Turning her face to try and shield her eyes, she grabbed the hilt of her sword with both hands and pulled with all her might as her companions exchanged worried glances. Suddenly, the tunnel of light violently exploded in a spectacular display, knocking everyone back. The blast was so powerful it forced the air from her lungs, and she didn't remember even hitting the ground.

Everything became distant and muffled. As she stared up at the dispersing light, she felt herself slipping away. The world grew dark. The last few days flashed before her as she lost her grip on reality…

It was immediately following the Landsmeet that Alistair barged into her chambers, slamming the door against the wall as he flung it open. Startled, Drea spun around, and opened her mouth to snap at him about being so rude.

Before she could start, however, Alistair stomped up to her and shouted, "How could you just throw me to the wolves like that!"

Drea was completely taken aback, "Throw you to the wolves? I made you King! Most of those _wolves_ are your supporters."

"_But I never wanted this_," Alistair spat. "After this is over with, they're actually going to put me on the throne. I've always regretted being born of this blood, you know that. I kept thinking that there would be a way out and instead _you_ go and put me on the throne yourself! Why?"

Taking a deep breath, Drea tried to calm the anger that was rising. She knew it would only make things worse if she let herself match his fury. "I did it for Ferelden."

Alistair sighed, deflating some of his anger. Shaking his head, he replied, "And what I want doesn't factor in anywhere does it? Funny how it always works out like that." His piercing stare made it painfully obvious he was directing that at her. Before she could say anything, he sighed, "Drea, I have no idea what I'm doing, you know that. How can this be good for anyone?"

Reaching over, Drea rested her hand on Alistair's arm and gently squeezed, "Alistair, you'll be fine. Like Arl Eamon pointed out, you already have what cannot be taught – you have a good heart and you know the realities of what the country has to face. And besides, Arl Eamon has already offered to remain and give council."

As she spoke, Alistair glanced at her hand on his arm. Eventually he looked from her hand back up to her eyes. "But _you_ won't, will you?" His voice was quiet.

Pulling her hand back, she crossed her arms. His true feelings emerged in his eyes; his anger was a cover for his hurt. Swallowing hard, she shook her head. They had been through this before, but it was not easy for either of them to accept.

"Why not?" His eyebrows crinkled as he tried to keep calm.

"For Ferelden," she repeated softly.

"Don't hand me that," Alistair said flatly.

Raising her chin, she looked at him sternly and repeated more firmly, "For Ferelden. You know as well as I do the difficulty two Grey Wardens have producing a child. If I take my place at your side, your bloodline will die with you. And _then_ where would Ferelden be? We've already discussed this; you need to take your place with Anora at your side. Not only will she be able to bear you an heir, but she'll be able to govern."

Exasperated, Alistair threw his hands up as he snorted, "Oh right! Somehow I don't think _that's_ going to happen. Not only do I have her locked up in her own personal prison right now, but there's also the fact that she hates me."

Drea sighed and dropped her hands by her side. As horrendous as Loghain's actions were, Drea couldn't help but empathize with Anora. She personally understood that watching your father being struck down tends to leave a bitter taste in one's mouth. Leaning onto the back of the bench that sat next to them, she shrugged, "I think it will pass. She just lost her father by your hand, and that's...that would be awful for anyone. But she was also aware that there was little choice in the matter. Anora loves her country. After she has space to clear her head I'm confident she'll do what's right and follow through with commitments she's already made to you."

"Lovely," Alistair shot back sarcastically, "But I'm not exactly interested in forcing someone to be my wife."

She replied so quickly that she was close to interrupting, "No Alistair, I do _not_ believe you'll have to force her. You're a wonderful man, and she'll see that when she calms down."

"If I'm so wonderful, then why is it so easy for you to pawn me off like this?" His eyebrows furrowed deeper as he looked at her. Drea's mouth went dry as she stared hard at him for a moment.

When Drea's family was betrayed by the Howes and slaughtered before her eyes, her heart had been broken. Even as she allowed Duncan to hurriedly lead her away, she kept looking back to catch glimpses of her childhood burning to the ground behind her. Numbly she pressed on, but she could feel her heart being destroyed, leaving her empty and hollow. It was during the next year, while on the road with her companions, that her heart mended a little. The love from her friends, namely Alistair and Leliana, provided the stitches she used to piece her heart back together.

Now, as she stared into Alistair's eyes that silently pleaded with her, she was knew she was about to cost herself many stitches this day. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep herself from flinching as she spoke, "Alistair...this isn't about what I want. I grew up a Teyrn's daughter, and I learned to put the needs of the people ahead of my own personal desires. Right now I need you to do the same. We still have to face the archdemon and that's where we have to focus."

Alistair stood unmoving and watched her as she uncomfortably began to rub the back of her neck. He tightly closed his eyes as he sighed, "Drea." He spoke so insistently, it caught her attention and stilled her fidgeting. "Drea, I love you. You think I can't tell when you're holding something back? I deserve better."

There was a perfect mixture of hope and sorrow in his face as he fell silent. All he wanted was for her to say something assuring, something to erase all the doubt and pain. She could feel stitches ripping freely now. The truth was, she was able walk away easier than a contended lover should. It hurt to leave, but she had known for a while she did not love him in the same way he loved her. At her core, she could no longer attempt to deny that wanted something different…some_one_ different. Looking at him now, she was left unsure what to say. She didn't want to crush him, but he was right - he deserved better than lies.

Dropping eye contact, Drea reached for the chain that hung around her neck and pulled a small pouch from under her armour. Giving the frail chain a hard tug, it easily snapped from her neck. "I…" she started and paused. With both hands, she pressed the pouch into the Alistair's palms. Looking into his eyes she hesitantly finished. "…don't think I love you the way you need me to."

His crestfallen expression hurt her deeply, but she could not think of anything to say that would help. Alistair was quiet for a moment before finally looking down at what she put in his hands. Carefully, he opened the pouch to find a dried rose inside. As the contents spilled into his hand, he knew it was _the _rose. He had his answer. "Things will never be the same again, will they?" He asked quietly.

Also looking down at the rose in his hand, tears threatened to well in Drea's eyes. He had given her that rose months before when he finally confessed his love for her. Even at the time she was confused by her feelings, but deeply cared for him. Since then, she had kept it close as it was a symbol of what they found in one another - a bit of beauty during a dark time. "I'm…so sorry," she murmured.

Staring down at the rose, Alistair ever so slowly closed his hand into a tight fist, crushing the dry and fragile petals. Turning his hand over as he opened it, the flakes of crushed rose petals fluttered to the cold, uncaring stone floor. "Then I guess that's that," his voice was barely above a whisper. Without looking up, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Drea wanted to call out to him, somehow hoping she could force this to end on a better note. But she remained quiet, knowing that was impossible. It was over, and he needed to be the one to walk away if he were to have a hope of moving on…

She slowly became aware of the hard stone under her back. Her mind was a haze, but returned to the present - she had just slain the archdemon. Through the pain, her breath came in ragged pants. The end was upon her, and as she lay there dying, her one regret wasn't hurting Alistair...it was not telling _her_ how she truly felt.

A figure eclipsed the light before her. "Leliana?" She croaked.

"No," a masculine voice floated to her. "You left Leliana at the gate remember? By the Maker, you're still alive." Alistair reached down to firmly grab Drea as he began to sit her up. Slowly, the world started to come back into focus. Looking into her eyes, he opened his mouth to say more but paused. Sweat was dripping down the side of his face, mixing with the darkspawn blood splattered on him as he breathed heavily from battle. He had the same victorious glow as the others, but in eyes sat dark anguish. Frowning, he finally blinked and decided against whatever he was about to say and focused on getting her to her feet.

Grasping onto Alistair's strong arms as he heaved her up, she was grateful he was with her. "Apparently Morrigan was good to her word," he added, "not only did you live, but she's already disappeared from the Fort." Drea was not surprised.

Her remaining companions gathered around her and they slowly made their way over to the edge of the roof. Peering over the side, they saw the soldiers cheering as the last of the darkspawn scrambled away from their defeat. Many of the soldiers were staring up at the Fort and yelled for others to look when they spotted the heroes looking down on them. Soon, the victorious men and women gathered together, shouting of triumphs and gratitude to the heroes on the rooftop.

Staring down at the jovial group, still dripping with blood from their conquest, Drea slowly began to understand this was not the end. It was, in fact, only the beginning.


	2. On the Turning Away

~**On the Turning Away~**

The main hall required very little adornments to provide the most beautiful backdrop for the commendation ceremony and following victory celebration. Thick, luxurious draperies hung down, surrounding the throne area in rich gold colours that matched the border of the blue running carpet covering the length of the hall. The fires and torches burned proudly as they accented the illumination from the sun that beamed in through the high windows and shone on the hanging noble banners. Various smells of incense filled the air with a pleasant floral scent that reminded former Orlesians in attendance of home. There was little else in Denerim that could match the beauty of the Royal Palace.

"Then," Alistair announced confidently, bringing the commendation ceremony to a close, "It is my honour to officially present to you all the Hero of Ferelden." Drea bowed to Alistair before turning to the crowded room and deeply bowing again. The room erupted into cheer as the festivities officially began. Alistair smile graciously as he said quietly to Drea, "Please go and enjoy yourself. I will not keep you from your fans." It was as polite of a dismissal as he could muster. The pain was still fresh, but he was working to accept the role he was handed. Stepping into the shoes of King was easier than he expected as it became obvious he was an instant favourite among his people.

_Things will never be the same again, will they?_ Alistair's final question to her rang in her head. She couldn't even grant him the generosity of an illusion - of course would never be the same. Never again would they be lovers and never again could it just be Alistair and Drea. It would always be the King of Ferelden and the Commander of the Grey. The change was immediate and evident during the ceremony as they addressed one another as was strictly proper and nothing more. At least the crowd did not seem to notice any stiffness between the two.

Nodding in acknowledgement of Alistair's dismissal, Drea turned and surveyed the room. Oghren was in the far corner surrounded by a group of fellow dwarves, all of whom were already well into the drink, Zevran was busy entertaining a group of lovely women, and Wynne was chatting with people dressed in robes similar to hers - likely also mages. Arkon, her beloved mabari, had settled at the back of the room and beside him stood Sten, as calm and stoic as ever. Although he was not able to express it in words, Drea knew her mabari would miss the company of his fellow warrior who was due to leave at dawn. With a sigh, she scanned the rest of the room, and finally spotted her brother. Not being entirely ready to venture outside and face the larger crowds, Drea slowly made her way through the main hall. Fergus watched her approach, speaking politely with the well wishers that stopped her along the way. He smiled widely at her when she finally arrived and smoothly closed his free arm around her. "Mother and Father would be so proud of you, dear sister."

Drea could smell the wine already on Fergus' breath, but his words were no less sincere. Clasping her hand over his as it rested on her shoulder she nodded, "Thank you Fergus. And how are you doing?"

"I am well…as I was last night…and as I will be tomorrow when we can speak more. For now though, I will not save you from your fans," he chuckled.

Drea narrowed her eyes a him as she drew her lips tightly together in a sour look. He always did seem to be able to read her mind, ever since they were children. "I was finished with all the pomp hours ago," she quietly complained to him.

Finally laughing out loud, Fergus replied, "Perhaps, but it is not done with you! Besides, you had better get used to useless ceremony. With the entire arling of Amaranthine under your belt, you'll be dealing with this more often."

A look of disgust crossed her face, "Surely it won't be as bad as this."

Thoughtfully, Fergus brought his wine to his lips and took a shallow sip. With a sigh he replied, "I hope not. I suppose I'll be feeling your pain while I'm doing the same pomp in Highever." He fell silent for a moment before pushing away the thoughts of the betrayal that destroyed his family a year earlier. "For now though, you must go at least try to enjoy yourself," he encouraged as he gave her a gentle nudge while he pulled his arm away.

She turned back to throw a sarcastic comment at him to see he had already returned to the group of men he was speaking with before. Giving up on her brother for refuge, she looked over the crowd to spot a familiar face and saw Leliana a short distance away. It was difficult to miss her, her fiery red hair reflected her general passion and practically served as a beacon. As usual, the entire group surrounding her was enthralled with her every word - they couldn't help themselves. Drea found she couldn't help herself either and soon was weaving through the people to get to Leliana's side, arriving just in time to hear her say, "Oh, actually I plan on returning to Orlais within the next few days."

Drea's stomach knotted painfully as those words fell on her ears. Before she could speak, one of the noblewomen noticed her. "I just returned from Val Royeaux, and it was so beautiful this…Oh! Commander," she exclaimed as she bowed.

Surprised, Leliana turned and respectfully bowed her head in welcome. Patiently, Drea motioned for the group to relax, "Thank you, but that's truly not necessary." Trying to appear nonchalant, she added, "I only stopped by to compliment you Leliana, you look beautiful tonight."

Warmly, Leliana smiled and her eyes sparkled, "Oh, thank you Commander." Looking down at her feet, Leliana raised the hem of her skirt enough for Drea to see the blue satin shoes she wore. Drea instantly recognized them as the shoes she had given to Leliana while they traveled on the road. She had doubted there would ever be a use for them, but Leliana vehemently swore there would be an occasion. Letting go of her skirt, she gave Drea a quick wink. Before anyone caught on that they were missing anything Leliana gestured to Drea's own attire and added, "I must admit, I am slightly disappointed - I had hoped for a chance to see you in something other than your armour. Even Zevran put aside his armour for the evening."

Drea opened her mouth to reply that her armour was at least clean for once, but the nobleman standing next to her broke in first, "Zevran…now…is that the name of the elf servant that followed with you?"

Growing up surrounded with elf servants, she knew this was an innocent enough question. However, after shedding blood with Zevran, and spending time with elves in both the Dalish camp and Alienage, this question quickly drew her ire. Curtly she replied, "No - we had no such servant. We did, however, travel with a deadly Antivan assassin who deemed our cause worthy of joining."

Despite keeping her demeanor calm, he could see that he had offended, "Yes of course. My apologies."

Politely smiling she shook her head dismissively, "It is an honest mistake, think nothing of it. If you will all excuse me however, I must take my leave. Leliana…if you have a moment I was hoping to have a word with you in private?"

"Of course," Leliana readily agreed. Flashing her disarming smile to the group, she quickly pardoned herself and followed Drea. Although Drea walked at a casual pace, stopping here and there to accept praise from random people, Leliana could feel her sense of urgency. Finally, she was led to a side door and they slipped from the hall. Once they finally stepped into a nearby room, Leliana asked, "Is everything alright?"

For a moment, Drea mentally ran through the list of what to say. She did not like blurting things out without thinking them through - her training in court at her Father's side taught her that could be dangerous. Unfortunately, nothing helpful came to mind; she had not planned to do this now. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest and the one thought that kept repeating in her mind was simply, _she's_ _leaving_. Crossing her arms tightly, she finally spoke, "Well yes…and no. I am sorry to drag you away like that, it's just that I really have to tell you something."

Leliana's eyes expressed her concern, but she still smiled, trying to put Drea at ease, "It's alright, you know I will always find you more interesting than a room full of nobles."

Nervously running her tongue over her lips and smoothing out her hair, Drea inwardly grew frustrated at herself. Leliana had always been so easy to talk to, so why was this so hard? Hesitantly, she began, "Leliana…I left you to fight at the front gate during the battle with the archdemon. I told you it was because I needed someone I could trust there to lead the defense. But I lied." Pausing, she watched as Leliana cocked her head to the side. Her surprise at this random topic was obvious, but she remained quiet, letting Drea continue. "The truth is…I could not bear to have you harm's way at all. Nowhere was particularly safe, I know, but the archdemon was an unknown danger. At least at the gate, between your gifted fighting, our other companions, and Arl Eamon's men I could tell myself you would be safe. I knew if…if I had you beside me to face the archdemon I would worry. If anything happened to you…I don't know what I would have done." Her words came out in a rush, and finally she forced herself to stop talking. With her arms still crossed, she leaned back onto the counter against the wall behind her, trying…and failing…to appear relaxed.

Leliana crossed her arms, mimicking Drea's stance, she frowned for a moment before asking, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I have to," she admitted. Evenly she held Leliana's gaze and spoke slower than before, "At the end of that fight I was struck down. I thought I was dying." Leliana's eyes widened slightly, hearing this for the first time. Drea awkwardly went on in a tone riddled with insecurity, "You know I care you for Lil. I've never met anyone quite like you and…sometimes I would like to…that is I…care for you more than someone who is just a friend. And, as I lay there dying, all I could think is how I've been a fool for not telling you that. In fact, it sickened me that I would leave this world with you never knowing. Even with everything that has happened…every horrible thing I have done…_that_ was my only regret."

"But," Leliana interrupted. Her voice was soft, caught between sympathy and frustration, "why are you telling me this _now_?"

"Because I didn't know you were leaving. I thought I had time," Drea replied lamely.

"You've had plenty of times to tell me! Like when I told you how _I_ felt, for example," Leliana pushed, her voice raising slightly. "Instead, _you_ said you just wanted to be friends."

Drea uncrossed her arms so she could freely fidget. It was a surprise to see the Warden so uncomfortable - she was always so confident and poised. Still nervously wringing her hands, Drea sighed, "Leliana, this isn't easy for me. I've been taught that this is wrong. When I became old enough to understand the scandalous side of nobility - Arlessa's with close handmaidens, Banns and their favourite soldiers - Father was very clear with how he felt about it. In no uncertain terms, he taught my brother and I that such trysts were unacceptable for us. We are Couslands - the most powerful family in Ferelden next to the King, and because of that he insisted we held ourselves up to a higher set of standards. I…both Fergus and I took this to heart." Finally her rush of words faltered and the dropped her gaze down to her fidgeting hands.

Before Leliana could speak, Drea added, "But it didn't _feel_ wrong. Lil, the times we were on watch together, talking through the night, are my fondest memories. I told you things I never would dream of telling another and was always hungry to hear more of your stories. Even the times when you fell asleep were blissful…just watching you rest brought me peace. It's confusing for me. It goes against everything I was ever taught but…I can't say it's wrong." Her voice grew quieter and less assured until she finally let her words die away. She wasn't sure what she expected from confessing this to Leliana but it was growing increasingly awkward. She didn't think Leliana would leap into her arms, but she was disappointed by the stony look growing on her face.

Taking a slow, deep breath Leliana finally spoke, "Do you have _any_ idea what that did to me? To spend all this time convincing myself that I misread everything? To try and ignore my feelings for you and watch you with Alistair. I…" Leliana's words caught in her throat out of frustration. A dark expression crossed over Leliana's features as a hard realization sunk in. "Alistair," she repeated quietly to herself as she uncrossed her arms. Her eyebrows crinkled as she added, "That's what this is about isn't it? Drea, you know how I feel about you but I know what happened with you and Alistair. I could never be happy knowing I was your second choice"

Her words heavily fell onto Drea. There was a new urgency in her eyes as she reached over to rest her hands on Leliana's, "I know how this looks, I do! But the truth is I could have made it work with Alistair had I wanted to. The dwarves with their noble hunters showed me there is more than one solution to producing an heir. But the closer the day came that I would have to officially agree to be Queen…the more I couldn't deny that my heart belonged to someone else. To _you_ Lil. It belongs to you."

Drea squeezed Leliana's hands tighter as her eyes began to shine with tears, "Maker's breath, Leliana," she spoke deliberately, "You were never my _second_ choice. You were the choice I was afraid to make."

There were no masks, no determined ego, no sense of duty…just a girl standing there with her heart in her hands. Leliana blinked rapidly against the tears that suddenly sprang to her own eyes. These were the words she had always hoped to hear and yet she felt crushed by them. Slowly she closed her eyes as she spoke, unable to watch what her next words would do, "But I still have to go. Marjolaine made it clear that until I return home and confront her, I will never really be free." Her words were spoke quietly, but they burned in Drea's ears.

"Don't go," Drea pleaded, "I can protect you." Leliana's disapproving look made her give up on that thought. "I can go with you. We can face her together," she quickly offered.

Leliana squeezed Drea's hands and took a moment to admire her. Letting go of one hand, she brushed Drea's black hair from her pale face and stared into her dark blue eyes. She truly was a beautiful woman, and Leliana had secretly loved her from the moment she laid eyes on her despite being too afraid to admit it for months. Weakly she smiled, "You know you cannot just walk away; your place is here. You're the Commander of the Grey and have an entire arling depending on…"

Sharply, Drea shook her head and waved Leliana into silence. It was the speech of duty. It was the same speech she had given Alistair only days before and being on the receiving end of it was a bitter pill to swallow. She felt Leliana pull her hand away, and as her hand finally dropped from hers, she felt her hope for happiness receding with it. More stitches broke in her heart.

"And I have to go back to Orlais. One way or another, my place is there until I deal with Marjolaine," Leliana concluded.

Drea's shoulders sagged from the sudden weight. Feeling like a desperate child, she quietly asked, "Do you think you'll ever return?"

"Of course. Well…" Haltingly, Leliana stopped and lightly chewed her lip as all the doubts in her mind forced her into silence. Drea understood, there were too many uncertainties ahead of both of them to make promises.

With that last spark of hope extinguished, Drea's heart was suddenly too heavy for any remaining stitches to continue to hold it together. Both Drea's mother and father had taught her how to mask her emotions, especially when in court. Now, more than ever before, she was grateful for this lesson, for as her heart crumbled in her chest leaving her a broken woman, she merely nodded thoughtfully.

Her stance stiffened as felt the urge to either break down in tears or childishly run from the room. Instead, she rested her hands on Leliana's shoulders and leaned forward to say goodbye. Tenderly pressing her lips to her cheek, she lingered a moment. It was a painful thought that this was the closest she would ever be to her and she desperately wished time would slow down, just this once. She longed to whisper how she loved her, but instead deeply inhaled the faint berry sent wafting from the oils in Leliana's hair. Even as she straightened and stepped back, she knew she missed her chance to say those words…and in fact, she may have missed her chance long before now.

"Then I guess that's that," Drea quietly echoed Alistair's words from several nights before as she offered a regretful and somewhat hollow smile. Lifting her chin, she walked past Leliana to leave the room.

"Wait," Leliana protested, "We can't end it like this." The pain rang clearly in her voice.

Although Drea had regained her composure, she dared not turn around. One more look into Leliana's heartbroken eyes would be her undoing. Pausing, Drea spoke over her shoulder, "We aren't ending anything. I care for you deeply and will always consider you a dear friend. That won't change whether you're here, in Orlais, or anywhere else. Goodbye Lil."

Gritting her teeth against the rush of emotion, Drea strode from the room before her façade cracked as severely as her heart had.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Drea was only mildly surprised to find Arkon devotedly waiting for her in the hall. Others may say he is just a dog, but there was no mistaking the deep concern in his eyes as he stared up at his master. Not breaking her stride, she breezed past him and he quickly turned to follow. May carts lined the hall, all filled with various appetizers and alcohol bottles for quick access for the servers. It was from one of these carts the Drea grabbed a full wine bottle and continued down the hall. Rounding the corner leading away from the main hall, she dropped her hand and patted Akron's head, "_You_ won't leave me right pal?" she asked. He barked in agreement as they moved out of sight.


	3. We All Fall Down

_Author's Note: I've been trying to post once a week. I'm a day late, but it's Thanksgiving here so for a holiday, I think I'm doing okay :) Anyhow, hope you enjoy…I know I've had mornings like this a time or two…

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**~We All Fall Down~**

The best bright mornings begin with the curtains drawn. Drea was not to have a good morning.

The freshly risen sun shone brightly down on the world below and directly into the room where Drea slept. As it fell on her face, it slowly roused her into consciousness. She desperately wanted to ignore it, but the sun rays were far too insistent and she needed to grab something to cover her face. By the time she woke enough to move, she could feel her body lurching, although she was sure she was still. Cracking open one eye confirmed she was indeed not moving, but even so, the room was spinning. With a resigned groan, she opened both bleary eyes and attempted to sit up.

"Oh good, you're awake," a voice commented from nearby. Drea wasn't able to focus her eyes just yet, but recognized the voice as her brother's.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, she reached up to rub her eyes only to have a shoulder pad awkwardly slip off from around her wrist. It hit the floor with a clatter that painfully drilled into Drea's head. Frowning, she muttered, "What in the Maker's name…" Looking down at herself she realized most of her armour was half stripped and hanging loosely. It was a mess.

She looked over and saw Fergus' feet. Tracing up from his feet to his face, she realized he was sitting on the bed, smiling patiently at her. Looking back down to where she had been lying, she also realized she was on the ground. "You let me sleep on the floor," she moaned.

With a chuckle he replied, "You're lucky I didn't dump you in the swine pen Dre! For once, Arkon smelled better than you…by quite a lot." From the corner, Arkon perked his ears upon hearing his name, but remained quiet.

Rubbing her face with her hands, Drea grimaced at his words, "Did I make an ass of myself?"

"No, not at all. Well, in public at least," he assured her. "A while after we spoke the first time, you made an appearance to the masses outside the palace, to the great excitement of the commoners. You delivered quite a rousing speech in fact, doing the Cousland name proud. And then you took part in the festivities, giving your attention to any of the nobles who requested it. I had you out of the hall well before you had a chance to make an ass of yourself, don't worry."

As he spoke of the evening, the memories slowly came back. She did speak to those waiting outside the hall. With the mass of people, she doubted they could even hear what she had to say, but nonetheless, they cheered and threw ribbons when she finished. The rest was a blur - one standard polite exchange blended with the next as the nobles vied for the honour of speaking with the hero. She vaguely remembered Fergus leading her away and willingly going with him, but it became too fuzzy after that. Of course, she also remembered speaking with Leliana and it felt like a sharply twisting knife in her chest. "Thank you," she finally mumbled.

"That's what family does," he replied, "we look out for one another."

Slowly, she started peeling off what armour she could without having to stand. The cotton tunic she wore under the leather stunk as bad as everything else. It was the saddest state she could recall her armour ever being in. Without looking up at him she asked, "But how did you know to look out for me? I mean I didn't drink much before, so what made you think to watch me?"

"Because you're a hero," he simply stated. This did draw her attention and she gave him a questioning glance before continuing to struggle with her straps. Shifting on the bed slightly, Fergus leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His humour was quickly stripped away as he sighed. "Drea, Father never had a chance to tell you this but the truth is a hero has one of two fates. Either he dies gloriously in battle, forever securing his title of hero…"

He paused and she finally stopped clumsily fussing with her armour. Gently rubbing her temple, trying to subside her throbbing head she asked, "Or?"

"Or…the hero falls," he finished. Drea frowned, but Fergus nodded. "It's true. Loghain serves as the most recent example. His final actions do not erase the fact that the Hero of River Dane was instrumental in freeing our entire nation after many years of foreign occupation. And his fall was no less spectacular. But this cycle has occurred many times before. Often, however, the falls of the great have been of a less public nature and thus they've been spared having their shame recorded in the history books."

"Loghain went mad with power," she argued, annoyed by his statement of compassion.

Not wanting to argue about Loghian specifically, Fergus made his reasoning more general, "The bigger the hero, the bigger the pressure, the bigger the fall." Drea couldn't argue, but pursed her lips together in doubt. Pushing on, Fergus added, "It's not just heroes - people of importance often succumb to their pressures. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to find a Bann, for example, who is sober more often than not. And it's usually not an abuse of his resources, but just the only way he can cope with the pressures from day to day."

"Mother and Father…?" she asked hesitantly.

"Had their vices," he supplied but did not elaborate. She did not ask, knowing she would not be able to handle hearing more right now. Finally, Fergus slid off the bed and shuffled over to Drea on his knees. Reaching out, he rested his hands over hers and added, "But I would like to offer you something most heroes never get."

Drea remained silent for a moment, slow to absorb everything. After looking at his hand closed over hers, she finally asked, "And what is that?"

Offering her a small, lopsided smile he answered, "A place to fall." Still hardly awake yet, Drea felt a rush of emotion that was difficult to control. He patted her hands lovingly as he added, "I want you to come home with me. You can let the pressures go for a while - fall and let me catch you. You can be blind, stinking drunk for weeks at a time and just let it all go."

Somewhere between a laugh and a cry, Drea hiccupped and covered her mouth with her hand. How did he always know? Each moment in the past year was another step in the road leading to killing the archdemon. Even when it seemed that she had to make difficult choices, there truly was no choice - it was just the next step in the obvious path laid out before her. She expected that victory to be the single greatest moment in her life, finally leaving her fulfilled - her purpose served. Instead, it signified the end to any clarity and direction she once had. Her purpose was gone, her direction unclear, her companions dispersed, and she slowly began to realize she was left empty. Worse yet, she was left with no distractions from all her losses- and they threatened to overwhelm her. Leaving her fingers pressed to her lips, she gratefully stared at her brother. "I'm so tired," she finally admitted. Crossing her legs she looked down at the floor and closed her eyes. "Exhausted," she clarified quietly. These words did not come close to expressing how she felt, but it was all she could muster to say.

Again, Fergus shuffled until he sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for an awkward hug. "I know," he replied. Finally she rested her head against his chest. The alcohol still clouded her mind but for a moment, she just took comfort in the rise and fall of his chest. When he spoke again, she felt the rumble, "Besides I would really like your help in restoring the castle. Even stumbling drunk, you'll be more help than most of the servants I have now. And then, when you're ready to rejoin the world, it will be where you dry yourself out."

Pulling away and sitting up, a weary, but wry smile grew on her lips, "I don't know Fergus. For the last several months, Oghren's been my drinking partner. Are you sure there would be enough alcohol to keep me drunk for _weeks_ at a time?"

During the festival, Fergus had been entertained by just how much ale the dwarf had been able to pack away. He would suffer from alcohol poisoning if he had tried to keep up! Laughing, Fergus nodded, "It will be my personal mission to make sure there is enough to supply you proper."

Drea laughed with him, stopping short when that set her head to throbbing even harder. She pressed against her temple again before looking over at her brother. "Thank you."

Fergus was getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off his pants. "But, if you want to travel with us, I am leaving soon…preferably within the hour but realistically within the next two. I have to go gather the new servants I hired, but it doesn't give you much time to clean up."

Not yet attempting to get up, Drea slowly nodded. "It doesn't give me much time for goodbyes," she commented.

Fergus' face turned serious as he replied thoughtfully, "I believe that is what last night was for. I don't see why a messenger delivered missive would not suffice. Of course if you _do_ want to say goodbye I…"

Drea cut in, "No. I…don't think I can." He was right, last night was the time for goodbyes, and she had already said all she needed to. She wasn't sure her heart could handle seeing Leliana again, and the more her morning fog broke, the more anxious she grew to leave.

Leaning down to rest his hand on her shoulder, Fergus gave a gentle squeeze, "I know that it's not easy to lose a loved one, no matter the reason. I think a note might be better for both of you - he is hurting too."

A quick look of confusion crossed her face. _He_? "Alistair," she quickly agreed, realizing Fergus's mistake. Best to let him think that. She nodded. "Yes. Well, I had better start getting ready."

Fergus did not push, and shortly left the room. Pulling herself to her feet, she stumbled over to the basin. It was filled with water, no doubt Fergus' handiwork. Looking into her reflection in the water basin, she saw how ghastly of a sight she truly was. Her eyes were swollen, apparently she had cried hard during the night. As more proof, there were traces of black running down her cheek - the remains of the makeup her handmaidens insisted on painting her with. Inwardly groaning at what a wreck she was, she cupped water in her hands and splashed it over her face. The cool water forced her into reality, pushing the haziness aside.

After cleaning herself up enough, she managed to find an attendant to clean her armour for her and find her a change of clothes. Surprisingly, it did not take too long for her to look presentable- a quick wash, a brush through her hair, and a fresh set of clothes. Soon she was sitting at the desk, writing out the notes to be delivered.

Settling onto the chair, she wrote a fairly lengthy note to Alistair outlining her plans to restore Highever with her brother. She promised to send word in the months ahead when she was ready to travel east to the Vigil's Keep in Arling of Amaranthine so any final preparations for her could be made. A similar note was written for the seneschal at the Keep so he would be able to prepare for her eventual arrival.

Finally, it came time for her last letter. For a long time, she simply stared at the blank piece of paper on the desk, lost in thought. She was plagued with dozens of things running through her mind, and yet was completely reluctant to write anything at all. What was left to say? What could she say that wouldn't come out twisted and bitter? In the end, the note that took her the longest to complete was the shortest note of all with only one word scrawled on it…

_Goodbye_.

Fergus arranged the deliveries with a castle messenger. It was not long until the young lad was knocking on Leliana's door. Tightening the draw on her robe, she greeted he boy who quickly handed her the piece of paper. She opened it and stared hard. _Goodbye_. Although it did not even say who it was from, she knew. She just knew.

Suddenly, she pushed past the young boy and dashed down the hall. He sprang back to dodge her and crashed soundly into the wall behind him. She would have felt awful, but she was already several strides down the hall. Her mind was racing…could it be true, did Drea really leave without warning? During the remainder of the celebration, their exchange had dominated her mind - she couldn't let it go. Finally, after a few glasses of wine, she decided she couldn't let it end that way. It was impossible to get next to Drea, but she intended to steal her away if not for the rest of the night, then for a moment. But she was gone, Drea suddenly disappeared. And now? Now she wasn't even going to get a goodbye?

Her bare feet hit the stone floor hard as she tore through the estate towards the front gates. To her horror, when she arrived she could see the travel party in the distance. They were too far away for her to catch. They were too far away to hear her. They were gone.

Alistair saw Leliana as he watched from one of the many windows of the castle. Fergus had spoken to him during the festivities about his plan to convince Drea to return to Highever with him. Despite Alistair's best efforts, he couldn't seem to help himself; he had to watch them leave. He was stunned, however, to see her best friend being left behind like this. His surprise quickly turned to anger when he saw the despair radiate Leliana as she watched the group disappear in the distance. The trail of pain Drea left in her wake disgusted him. Did the great hero care about nothing anymore? How could she just leave her best friend like that? A long sigh escaped his lips and he turned from the window, deciding to go down and meet Leliana at the gate – she would need a friend.

"Drea," Leliana whispered as clutched the note to her chest, fighting the urge to tear it to shreds. Angry tears sprang to her eyes and she opened the piece of paper again. _Goodbye_. There it was…her goodbye.


	4. And All the Teyrn's Men

_Author's Note: Hurray, I got my first comment! :D They light up my life, can you tell? haha You may notice from here on in that what I take from the game might either be word for word or very loosely paraphrased at best. I'm happy with how it's turned out, but hopefully it's not too distracting. Anyhow...enjoy :)

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**~All the Teyrn's Horses and All the Teyrn's Men~**

"What is this I see? Planning to sneak away are you?" A voice came from behind her. Drea stiffened slightly, pausing as she strapped the saddle bags to the horse in front of her. Instantly she recognized his voice, but it never ceased to amaze her that she was unable to hear him approach.

Looking over at him, squinting in the morning sun, she offered a small half smile. "Not at all," she assured him.

"So were you not planning to give me enough time to pack?" Zevran asked lightly. Drea shook her head in reply. "I see," he commented.

"Your oath has been fulfilled," she replied with confidence she wasn't sure she had at the moment. He cocked his head to the side, giving her a measuring look. "You were right," she added, "now that the business with the archdemon is over, I no longer have the need for an assassin."

The golden haired elf thoughtfully crossed his arms and drummed his fingers along the taut muscles of his bicep. His face had grown serious, regretful that this day had finally come. "Then let it not be said that Zevran Arainai stays where he is no longer wanted," he said quietly. He attempted to say those words lightheartedly, but his disappointed tone betrayed him.

Drea quickly secured the strap she still held and turned to the assassin. She rested her hand in the centre of his crossed arms and shook her head, "Unwanted? To say it's been an honour to fight beside you would not even begin to describe how grateful I am that you were there. But the reality is I am on my way to help restore Highever before making my way to Amaranthine, where I will be residing. Given your current relationship with the Crows, I'm not entirely sure it's a good idea for you to be stationary at a port city like that."

"Ah, of course," Zevran quickly understood. He had hoped that word of his survival and Taliesin's death would be slow to reach Antiva, but with his name quickly getting attached to the Hero of Ferelden, it was a dim hope. "My dear Warden, they also remain as a threat to you. With Loghain dead, they may be intentionally slow at carrying the contract out but truly, there is only one way to ensure your safety."

Drawing her lips together in a thin line, Drea folded her arms over her chest. Antivan politics were difficult for an outsider to fully grasp, but he had explained enough for her to understand the basics surrounding contracts. Finally, she replied, "The House must fall."

Grimly Zevran nodded, keeping his eyes glued to her. "This, I believe, gives me much to think about. Never before have I been completely free to make my own choices, but as I see it, the choice here is obvious."

"Why do I feel like I need to warn you against doing something stupid?" Drea asked with a smile playing on her lips.

Quickly, he replied, "Worry not my dear, it is merely talk at the moment."

"Even so," Drea added, "Keep in mind the King has the same contract on his head…so if you _were_ to decide to do something stupid, it would be worth talking to him first."

"This is true," Zevran agreed. "Then it is decided…if I choose to be stupid, I will consult the King."

His double meaning was not lost on Drea and she had to stifle a laugh. When the smiles died down, they held one another's gaze for several moments, both fighting off the feeling of awkwardness. After everything they had been through, to suddenly part ways did not feel right, but rather than voice any of it, Drea simply nodded, "Then I guess this is goodbye."

Bowing deeply as he backed away into the shadow of the alcove, Zevran replied, "Until our paths cross again my dear Grey Warden." She watched him move into the blackness, virtually disappearing before her eyes. And, if it was at all possible, she was left feeling a little emptier.

The rest of the trip had been relatively uneventful. Although there had been word of small roaming groups of unorganized darkspawn, their party encountered nothing. Drea found herself disappointed as it gave her no distractions from what lie ahead. Try as she might, she knew no amount of bracing herself would prepare her for returning to Highever.

And she was correct - as soon as road became familiar, her skin began to crawl. While Fergus knew of the horror that occurred, he did not see it with his own eyes - he did not have the memories of it to haunt him. As they neared the castle, the subtle changes in her were obvious. Drea said nothing to him, but secretly Fergus began to worry that bringing her home was not a good idea. She lapsed into silence when the castle came into view, and no amount of prodding could pull her from her grim state. To her credit, she did not fall apart.

For the first several days, she merely wandered aimlessly through the castle as Arkon solemnly trailed behind her. Fergus ordered his staff not to disturb her for their own safety as much as out of respect. Slowly, Drea moved from room to room, silently watching the betrayal of the Howes unfold as the ghosts in her mind replayed the scenes over and over again.

Although the bodies had long since been removed, she stared at the lifeless form of Aldous, her tutor, as the blood pooled out from under him, soiling the library floor. Mother Mallol was missing…would they be so despicable as to kill a sister of the Chantry? Even now, Drea had no answer for that, or for what became of her beloved Nan, whose body was also missing. These were people she had known since childhood - extended family, not servants…

It was days before Drea could bring herself to look in Fergus' old room where they had found his wife and son. Finally forcing herself to confront it, she could clearly see, in her mind's eye, Oriana and little Oren sprawled out on the bedroom floor, heartlessly slaughtered. She had to furiously blink away the tears as she stood in the doorway. They were both so peaceful…they must have been so frightened…her stomach retched at the thought of their last, horrifying moments.

She turned from the room and stood in the hall. "I don't know if I can do this boy," she murmured to Arkon who loudly whined in reply. With all her heart, she wished Leliana was with her. She was possibly the only person that could help her face down the past. Looking up, she realized it was here that her and her mother tried to piece together what was happening.

"_Did you see their shields?" her mother asked, hardly believing what she was about to say, "Those are Howe's men! Why would they attack us?"_

_They stood with their weapons in hand, their minds scrambling to make sense of the sudden chaos. Numbly, Drea replied, "He's betrayed father! He attacks us while our troops are gone…"_

"_You don't suppose Howe's troops were delayed on purpose do you?" her mother asked, unsure. Finally, it was undeniable, and this realization infuriated the Teyrna, "That lying bastard! I'll cut his throat myself"_

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she quickly wiped away the few tears that formed. She realized there was a drink in her hand. There always seemed to be a drink in her hand. She swallowed down several mouthfuls, waiting for it to numb her senses, but it was never enough. She could still see it all too clearly - her finals words with Ser Gilmore where he begged her to go to the servant's entrance with her Father…looking for Nan and finding nothing…discovering her father bleeding out on the pantry floor…

"_Come with us Father! They haven't found this entrance, we can drag you out with us," she begged, her eyes quickly filling with tears as her mother fell into silence._

"_Only if you're willing to leave pieces of me behind pup," he rasped. Up until then, the carnage had not truly bothered her - she was so focused on fighting and surviving that her brain hadn't had a chance to process any of gruesome sights. Now, staring at her pale father while he struggled for each breath, it began to sink in. The hopelessness settled in around her, and her body began to shake._

Even now, she resented Duncan for pulling her away. She resented him, even knowing she would be dead now too, had he not been there to force her away.

"_I won't be leaving with you darling," her mother quietly informed her._

_Drea blinked in astonishment, "I…I won't let you sacrifice yourself."_

_Her mother reached over and grabbed her hand as tears welled in her eyes, "My place is with your father, by his side in death and whatever lies beyond." Drea shook her head against her mother's words and the Teyrna tightened her grip on her hand. The tears finally rolled down her cheeks as she finished, "We've had a good life, and we did all we could. It's up to you now…" Her voice did not crack, but her words finally got caught in her throat. _

True to his word Fergus always make sure there was alcohol on hand, and made no judgments against her. Part of her knew she needed to grieve, simply grieve. But after many days of wallowing in the pain, even with the drink to dull it, it was too much. As her form of escape, Drea threw herself into the castle restoration, labouring to return each room to their initial purpose. All of the burnt items and soot had been purged from the castle, likely by the occupants Howe had assigned to live at Highever. But many of the rooms had been changed from their original function and most had been polluted with the Howe family crest.

Anything with a Howe crest on it was taken to the back of the castle to be burnt, and any salvageable furniture was stripped and refinished to be used again. Most of the furniture that had been in use at the time of the attack was destroyed during the burning of the castle, but there were old items in the bowels of the basement. Under her supervision, these pieces were brought up to be used again to furnish various rooms. Fergus would still have to eventually invest in new items, but there was enough to have the castle satisfactorily functioning.

For many months, Drea fell into a simple routine. Although she was rarely seen without a drink in her hand, she spent long days working hard to reclaim the estate. Her evenings were spent training. Even with her copious amounts of drinking, her body did not grow soft. More than one training dummy had been destroyed under her barrage of attacks, and it was obvious to most that her nightly exercises had little to do with training and more to do with savagely beating something. Despite her being relatively polite, almost all of the servants gave Drea a wide berth. They told themselves it was out respect, but the truth was, it was out of fear.

After she exhausted herself in the training room, she would wander out to the back of the castle to burn another Howe branded item. Fergus begged her to let his staff take care of it, but she refused. There was something morbidly satisfying about watching the Howe crest burn. Most of the items were banners, and they burned quickly, but thoroughly. At first, the flames would merely lick up from the logs, lightly caressing the banner fabric. But before long, the fire would take hold in the material and it would burst into flame. Sitting by the fire pit, drinking her mead deeply, she would watch the fire consume the Howe crest until it was unrecognizable. Soon, all that would remain was ash as it crumbled on itself. Like everything else around her, it too was dust.

Fergus was wracked with conflicting emotions. With all the losses he had endured, watching his sister's torture was a fresh sting. He knew this was something she had to do, face the demons of her past. But actually having to watch her pain was worse than he expected and had he not been so tied up with the Banns, he might have stepped in. The Oath of Fealty was due in a couple days, and since it had been delayed due to the restoration of the castle, the Banns were more demanding than ever. As distracted as Fergus was, he could see that her focus on the restoration was nothing short of unnerving and it was enough of a distraction to stop her from truly grieving. She needed to relax, and accept the feelings as they come. Instead, she was refusing to fall, refusing to accept her pain, and just stretching out her suffering. Coming from an honour and duty driven family, focusing on feelings was a difficult task.

It was almost midday when Drea found herself in the courtyard although the sun had not been able to break through the overcast sky. A light drizzle started as she strode across the grounds, but it did not deter her as she made her way to the woodcrafter's area. She was anxious to see what progress they had made on refurbishing some of the furniture. Faithfully, Arkon plodded along beside her, huffing loudly to remind her that he didn't want to be in the rain. His gestures went unnoticed, and in fact Drea was almost surprised when Fergus appeared to intercept her before she reached the area set aside for the crafters. He had openly walked from the side of the court, but her mind had been elsewhere.

"Drea," he called, finally getting her attention. Quickening his pace, he easily caught up to her, "My dear sister, I'm glad I caught you. I was hoping you'd come inside with me for a while,"

"No," she replied without hesitation, "I was on my way to check in with the woodcrafters."

Fergus followed her gaze to the two men working at a table set up under an overhang at the edge of the courtyard. The light rainfall had muffled the sound of their tools as they worked, but their hands were steadily in motion. "I am amazed at what you've gotten out of the servants, I must admit. I counted them as almost a hopeless cause myself."

Drea turned her attention to her brother, "You're too hard on them Fergus. Most of the…former staff…had been here since before either of us was born. They knew the internal workings of the estate better than we ever would. But all these people are completely new and everything is starting from scratch. They just need a little direction and patience."

"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "And since they are making such good progress, you can take some time off to visit with your brother can't you?" The doubtful look on her face was his answer. Without giving her a chance to counter, he continued, "Besides, they don't need you looking over their shoulders and making them nervous."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, clearly surprised by his choice of words. "Nervous?"

"Nervous," he repeated. Slowly letting out a long breath of air, he finally added, "Look…the truth is, you make a lot of people nervous. My attendant confessed to me that most of the servants are almost afraid to be around you. They see you as rope that's drawing too much weight and is clearly ready to snap at any moment. No one wants to be around when that happens. Honestly Dre, if you were to scream, cry, and throw things you'd make them less nervous. You'd be more…human…"

Although she remained collected, Drea was at a loss for words. As far as she could see, she had treated the servants with nothing but respect, giving them no cause to fear her. Part of her realized these were words of concern, but another part felt slightly betrayed. Cutting through her thoughts, Fergus added, "Look, the Banns are preparing to swear their oaths and I was wondering…"

"If that's what this is about, I do plan on swearing an Oath of Fealty," Drea interrupted, misunderstanding his intent. A puzzled look crossed Fergus's features so Drea continued, "Obviously I cannot swear the Wardens, but I will be swearing on behalf of the Arling of Amaranthine."

"But…that's never been a formal oath?"

"I know, and look how well that served us," the bitterness crept into her tone. "The fact is what I do, what I _am_, does not lend itself to a long life. And so if I swear the oath for the arling that will put pressure on my successor to do the same."

"Stop. Stop talking like that, please," he replied, "The truth is Dre…if someone is going to betray Highever, they're going to do it - oath or not…" Fergus was quieted by the stern look Drea was shooting him. Clearing his throat he gently moved away from the topic, "But at any rate, this is not at all what I came to talk to you about. What I was trying to say was with the Banns busy, I actually have free time and I don't intend to waste it. I'd really like you to come and sit with me for a while." Gradually, Drea's gaze returned to the crafters at the edge of the courtyard. "No, they're doing fine. Come with me. Look, I can see you have a mug of…ale? Well I have the rest of the keg. Help me with it."

With a slow shrug of her shoulders, she conceded. "Excellent!" Fergus exclaimed. He reached over and put his arm around her, turning her back towards the castle. Arkon barked with excitement as he started towards the door. The rain had started falling harder now, and the smell of the dampened earth was wafting through the air. Almost at the entrance, the small group heard someone calling.

Drea turned towards the noise and saw a man running towards them from the gate as a Highever guard trailed after him. Spinning around, out of her brother's grasp, her hand dropped to her sword - the family sword. "_Commander_!" he kept shouting repeatedly as he raced towards them. As he neared, she could see he was dressed in peasant clothes and was in sore need of food and rest as the red eyes and pale skin told the tale of his weariness. Seeing he was clearly unarmed, she relaxed her stance.

Finally reaching them, the man doubled over and braced his hands against his knees, trying to catch his breath. Within a few strides, the guard caught up with an apologetic look on his face. Looking from the guard to the man, Drea finally spoke up, "Speak."

Through his noisy panting, the man produced a piece of paper from his pouch. "I…I was sent by the Seneschal of Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine." The man stopped to gasp for more air before forcefully continuing, "There has been a marked increase in darkspawn attack in the area since the end of the Blight. The entire arling is practically…under siege..."

She looked over at Fergus, who was returning her look of bewilderment. Almost in doubt that she heard correctly, Drea asked, "What?"

Finally able to stand, he lifted one arm above his head to relieve a stitch in his side, as he vigorously nodded, "It's true! Many farms have been attacked, and the Seneschal is very concerned. He is hoping you will decide to come to the Keep soon…"

Drea tightly pursed her lips together. The arling was to the north of Denerim, and with the horde being stopped there, Amaranthine was, for the most part, spared during the Blight. From earlier reports, the darkspawn had disbursed, likely driven back underground. An increase anywhere was alarming, but why further north than any of the progress the horde made during the Blight? There was not much else to consider, she had to go.

Looking at Fergus, she abruptly stated, "I must prepare for my trip, I'll be leaving in the morning. Gather what Banns you can to witness my oath this evening." Addressing the man she asked, "Will you be ready to travel by morning?"

The man blanched, turning even paler, "But…I…I was only sent as a messenger, to give you a chance to get your affairs in order. Mhairi, one of the recruits, is several days behind me to escort you back. I…I…don't want to go back. I can hardly believe I made it _here_ in one piece…" The man was so afraid at the prospect of returning, he began to stutter through his words.

"Very well," She crisply replied, not arguing. Turning to Fergus she added, "I trust you will be able to provide for the messenger. In the morning, I will travel with Arkon."

"You can't be serious," Fergus argued instantly, "Wait and travel with this Mhairi. If what this man says is true, you'll never make it to the arling in one piece."

Drea couldn't help but smirk slightly, for a moment breaking her usually cold exterior. Gesturing to the man she pointed out, "Well _he_ did. With my mabari, I will have far better odds and will be meeting this recruit on the road."

For the first time in the months he had been reunited with his sister, he saw a glimpse of the spark he had always known of her. She was always the fiery one, possessing the energy and determination to see things through to the end. In that small, subtle shift, he could see the glimmer of life in her eyes. And he also knew it meant there was no point in arguing. Somberly, he replied, "Well, I guess we know now why you couldn't truly fall. It seems you aren't finished being a hero yet."

Gradually, Drea's smirk spread into a knowing smile, accepting that reasoning. Looking over to the man, she plucked the note from his fingers, and replaced it with her mug of ale leaving him wide eyed and confused. Striding towards the entrance, she read the missive as she walked.


	5. No Rest for the Wicked

_Author's Note: I hope you're digging this so far! You may notice the story gets a little rushed for the next few chapters. I have a lot from Awakenings to include, but since BioWare already provided us with that great story, I don't want to dwell on it too much. It's an interesting challenge to both try to skip and include so much, but I'm having fun with it :)  


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**~No Rest for the Wicked~**

Drea proudly swore her oath to the Teyrn of Highever in a modest ceremony with few of the Banns present to bear witness. The Banns in attendance were excited for the rare opportunity to be part of such an event, but disappointed that the Hero of Ferelden disappeared almost immediately after. Serving his duty, Fergus remained to entertain the Banns, but sorely wished he was able to follow after his sister.

To make up for it, he was sure to rise when the world was still dark. He was determined not to let her sneak away without getting to say goodbye. Much to his surprise, she was waiting for him just outside his room. Casually, she sat on one of the chairs in the sitting area as Arkon rested at her feet. "About time you got up," she smirked.

"Well, _someone_ had to be respectful to the Banns," he lightly shot back.

"Not my Banns. Not my problem," she said briskly as she rose, with her studded leather armour creaking slightly in the process. Eyeing his look of distain, she laughed quietly. "But, I will feel the pain of that soon enough when I reach my arling," she assured him. Crossing the hall to him, a more serious look settled on her features. "I wanted to see you before I left Fergus because I have something to give you." Reaching to her scabbard, she pulled out the family sword and held it in her flat palms, offering it to him.

"_It's the family's sword, it must not fall into Howe's hands. It should be used to sever his treacherous head," the Teyrna angrily spat as she thrust the sword into Drea's hands._

His eyes seemed to cloud when he saw what she held, and he shook his head, "No Dre, I cannot accept that."

Not giving in, she replied, "Mother gave it to me to bring justice to those that wronged us. That has been done and I think it's only right that the sword be returned home…"

_Just as she promised her mother, the Cousland sword was used to slit Rendon Howe's throat. As she stood over him, watching him bleed to death, all she felt was more anger. Her family sword, dripping in his blood, was not enough to wash away the rage and it did not bring her family back. Leliana had tried to warn her that getting vengeance would solve nothing, but Drea was blinded by her hatred. In the end, Leliana was right. Dreaming of her revenge was better than getting it. Getting her revenge left her hollow…a hollowness that was only filled with more anger. The sword fulfilled it's purpose, but what was the point? They were all still gone…_

Fergus argued, "It's with a Cousland now, is it not? That is where it belongs…"

Being a Warden meant she was expected to cut all ties to her former life, but she knew she could never do that. Being the Commander of the Grey, and currently the only Ferelden Warden, she doubted anyone would try to correct her ways. "I am a Cousland, yes. Which is why I'll be raiding the armoury for another weapon," she smiled. Pushing the hilt of the sword into Fergus' hand, with the family crest pointing up at him, she finished, "But that doesn't change the fact that _this_ belongs here." Fergus finally nodded and accepted the sword.

Drea was on the road before day break with Arkon happily trotting beside her. She had refused the use of a horse, deciding that Highever needed to keep all the resources it had. As it was, she was leaving sooner than anyone expected, so there was no need to rush.

Several times she had felt the distant pull of a group of darkspawn, but decided not to stray from the main road for worry of missing the recruit. Nothing pursued her, and she had to assume that she had gone unnoticed. Other than those times of tension, her trip was a quiet one - sometimes too quiet. On her first night, she stopped with enough time to set up a proper camp for herself. It was not long before she realized it gave her far too much time to think and all she could think about was Leliana, her family, and things she just generally wanted to forget. There were many times that first night that she cursed herself for not bringing mind-numbing alcohol. She tried humming to herself, focusing on different songs she had learned - but ultimately that brought to mind the red-headed bard she had learned the songs from. She had even tried to occupy her mind with various lessons from her tutor by reciting names and dates of important historic events. That inevitably ended with her reliving the devastating moment when she found his body on the floor of the library. It was the very next day that she started the routine of walking late into the night until she was too tired to carry on and collapsing in spots just off the main road for a few hours of sleep. Her mind quickly became too hazy to carry any single thought, and that suited her fine. She just needed to keep walking and Arkon was seasoned enough to keep up. Few of her provisions required cooking, so for the most part, she was able to keep on the move. Even as she settled in this pattern, she knew it was not a smart way to travel, but she was doing far better than the messenger had. In the end, it was nothing a few good solid nights of sleep at the Vigil couldn't cure.

It was a day's travel from Vigil's Keep when she came across the recruit, Mhairi, who quickly identified her. As it turns out, Mhairi was from Denerim and lucky enough to be outside of Denerim's Palace during the victory celebration. She had not been able to hear Drea's words over the cheers of those around her, but she had gotten a good view of the speech. After expressing her excitement of meeting her in person, the pair quickly fell into silence - exhaustion on Drea's part, and worry of acting foolish on Mhairi's.

As the Vigil came into view, the gray skies finally opened up with rain. Arkon groaned, but continued to walk between the women who still carried on wordlessly. Drawing nearer to the Vigil, Mhairi began to notice it was far too quiet and finally couldn't help herself, "What is going on? Why are there no Wardens to greet us?"

Drea furrowed her eyebrows and gathered her shoulders in a shrug. Was it customary for someone to meet them? Wasn't that what the recruit was sent for? Mhairi eventually added, "Something is wrong."

No sooner had the words come from her lips when a man came bursting from the front gates, running towards them with a crazed look in his eye. "Help!" he shrieked, "They're right behind me."

As he desperately raced from the Vigil, Drea could see several genlocks in hot pursuit. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, dispersing the fog in her mind. The scene before her almost seemed to slow down as she surveyed it with sudden clarity. The genlocks were gaining on the man, and he would not be able to defend himself against their numbers. Seeing the two well-armed women, the man began running directly towards them, losing distance from the genlocks. They were closing on him quickly, and she could see he would not make it to them in time. Reading the situation the same, Arkon tore off towards the man, leaving the women behind. Her body reacted, and instantly her pack crashed to the ground as she dropped it from her shoulders. Flying past the man, Arkon snarled viciously as he smashed into the first genlock. Reaching for her weapons, Drea was already running towards the creatures as her swords cleared their sheaths. Also racing past the terrified man, her biting blades swung down into the skull of her first victim in months. Without hesitating, Arkon charged after the next genlock in line as Mhairi rushed in with her sword and shield. The unexpected, but powerful, allies renewed the man's vigor and he stopped running turning to fight his pursuers. They might not have been the well-oiled battle machine that was Drea's last group, but they managed to cut down all the darkspawn.

The three stared at each other as they stood over the bodies. "Thank the Maker you're here," the man cried. "They came out of nowhere! I…they were just everywhere."

Drea mulled on his words for a moment. Nothing added up - Grey Wardens were able to sense darkspawn, how could they have been surprised? What was worse, it occurred to her that even seeing the genlock with her own eyes, they didn't _feel_ like darkspawn. The taint was there to be sure, but was somehow more distant. It wasn't right. She tightened her grip on her sword, her nerves showing in subtle ways. "How many Grey Wardens survived?"

The man spread his hands unknowingly as he stared into Drea's eyes. His sunken-in features mixed with his panic left him looking almost unnatural. "I…I…I think there was one right behind me. I don't know. I…I…I know there are guards patrolling the road. M…M…Maybe I can find some help," he stuttered. Drea nodded in dismissal and he quickly sprinted past them, anxious to get as far from the Vigil as he could.

"Let's go," Drea ordered firmly, "We have to make sure the Vigil is secure." Mhairi nodded in agreement. Drea couldn't help but like the recruit - she was respectful, strong, talented with her weapons, and did not hesitate to spring into battle. If any of the other recruits were like this one, there would be hope for her order.

They did not have to go very far before finding more darkspawn. Vigil guards were trying to dispatch small pockets of them just outside of the gates of the Keep. Although they volunteered to help Drea, she ordered them to regroup at the entrance instead. It gave her a secure spot to direct any survivors they came across and she was confident her group of three could secure the Vigil, room by room. After a few encounters, Drea was better able to tune into the sensation of these tainted creatures. It was an unmistakably more muted feel than the darkspawn she battled during the Blight, like they had been able to suppress the taint somehow. It was unnerving. She had also tried to sense any other Wardens, but felt nothing. That was unnerving as well - had the entire Warden unit been killed?

Finally, after the three made their way inside the Vigil, Mhairi's sense of hopelessness caught up with her. There are few things in life as upsetting as seeing the corpse of someone a person recognizes, and that's all Mhairi was faced with. Each new door opened on a new set of bodies - some mangled, some hanging from the ceiling - all people she knew. Like the attack on Highever, the grisliness of the battle did not register with Drea - she was fixated on the next step. Mhairi was not so lucky. Stopping suddenly, her chin began to quiver ever so slightly as her eyebrows creased deeply, "How could they have ambushed the Keep so effectively? It just…I didn't know they were capable of such a thing." She spoke while she stared at the hanging bodies that twisted morbidly. Her sword and shield slowly lowered as her despair made them too heavy to handle.

Silently, Drea also took a moment to observe the hanging bodies as Arkon anxiously stood beside her. Since when were the darkspawn so organized and methodical? It was another question to add to the growing pile, all of which she kept to herself. Finally, Drea sheathed a sword and clapped her free hand on Mhairi's shoulder. Forcing her to turn and look into her eyes, she spoke firmly, "Mhairi, one thing at a time. First, we have to secure the Keep. I can't do this alone and I'm going to need your help." As she spoke, she gestured to the lever for the gate that now obstructed their way. Unfortunately, the lever was in a landing through a barricaded door and they needed another way in.

"Right," Mhairi said quickly, snapping out of her trance. "I hear you Commander. You can count on me." She guided them to the opposite side of the hallway to a door that led to a connecting passage way.

As they opened they door, they felt the sudden rush of intense heat and their nostrils filled with the sickening stench of smoldering flesh. A single man, with his light coloured hair pulled into a neatly kept pony tail, spun around to face the pair as they opened the door. Behind him, a burning hurlock collapsed to the ground and the man hesitantly turned back to face the darkspawn, making sure it would stay down. Drea was quickly able to identify his robes as those of a mage, and the wisps of smoke still rising from his fingertips confirmed it. He glanced from the fallen hurlock to the bodies of the Templars lying next to it. Slowly turning back to the women, he immediately blurted, "I didn't do it…don't get me wrong, I'm not broken up about them dying to be perfectly honest. Biff there made the funniest gurgle when he went down…"

Arkon whined and cocked his head as he regarded the man. A look of disgust crossed Drea's face as she gestured for him to stop talking, "Wait. So…did you kill these darkspawn or not?"

"Of course. Well, they helped a little before they tragically died," he gesture to the Templars. "You may call me Anders my dear lady. I am a mage, and sadly a wanted apostate," he seemed oddly upbeat as he provided more information than Drea was looking for.

"An apostate? Here?" Mhairi's face reflected the distain in her voice.

"That is what they call someone who does not wish to be chained up, so yes, I'm an apostate. The Templars captured me and were taking me back. We stopped here for a rest and well…you know, darkspawn attacked. Could be a sign yes?" Anders raised his eyebrows in hope.

Mhairi was shaking her head, but Drea remained expressionless as she quipped, "An awfully convenient sign if you ask me. But to be honest, right now all I care about that you held your own. As you may have noticed, the situation is dire and we could really use your help."

Offering a small bow, Anders quickly agreed, "Then you have it." Mhairi opened her mouth to argue, but Anders flashed her a wide smile as he added, "I can't say I'm fond of these darkspawn. Why don't we deal with them now and we can deal with what's to happen later…later?" Even Mhari could not disagree with that. There were far more pressing concerns than coming across an apostate who was ready to help.

Anders melded with the group very naturally and proved his usefulness in a short time. After forcing their way to the gate lever, they were able to push on into the Vigil. It was soon after that Drea encountered her next surprise. Throwing open a door and quickly surveying the room, she saw someone on the other side making short work of the darskpawn that were swarming to him. As he sliced his large battle axe in front of him, he cut through the flimsy armour of a genlock and gutted it with one swing. A spray of its dark blood arched over the figure as the creature fell. The two others attacking along side the first met similar gruesome fates. Wiping their blood from his face, the figure turned around and Drea blinked in surprise. Excitedly he waved as he called out to her, 'Aha! There you are! When these darskpawn showed up, all I could think was 'Just you wait until the Commander shows up, you'll all be spitting teeth out your arse.' I followed the screaming, and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya!"

"Oghren?" Drea could hardly believe it, and yet, there stood the dwarf with the flaming red hair.

Sauntering towards her with a large grin, he casually leaned on a railing pillar. "Doubting your eyes are you? I get like that, usually after my fifth bottle or so. Thought I'd try my hand at becoming a bona fide Grey Warden."

"He was here when I left. I can't believe the Grey Warden's didn't kick him out," Mhairi snorted as she relaxed her stance slightly.

"This man has pulled me out of the clutch of death more times than I can count," Drea said sharply. She had far more to say about such disrespect, but with a glance in Mhairi's direction she saw the wince on her face. The recruit knew she spoke out of turn.

Bowing her head, Mhairi quickly replied, "Of course Commander, my apologies."

Turning back to Oghren, Drea frowned, "You know here are risks to joining the Grey Wardens…" Although she knew he would be an asset to the order, after her steady stream of losses, she wasn't eager at the thought of losing another. Arkon gave a loud bark at her side, sharing her sentiment.

The dwarf threw his head back in a hearty laugh, "Ha! There are risks to getting up in the morning! I piss on risk."

Knowing there was no point to arguing she moved on, "Well there it is then. Nothing to do now but keep going."

The number of darkspawn had grown sparse, and in the face of the devastating team, they broke as easily as waves on a rocky shore. Following the pull of the strange taint, Drea led them to the roof of the Vigil. The air felt thick, and Drea motioned for the group to duck against the wall. Having caught a glimpse around the corner first, Mhairi whispered to Drea, "They have Seneschal Varel."

As Drea inched towards the corner of the wall, she heard talking and held her breath so she could hear it all. "Be taking this one gently," a gravelly voice said. "We are wishing no more death than is necessary."

"Necessary?" Another voice rang out, presumably from the seneschal, "As if your kind has ever done anything else."

Finally Drea peeked around the edge and spotted a man on his knees with a darkspawn behind him, pressing a sword to his exposed throat. "You are thinking you know of our kind then? It is understandable, but that will soon be changed," the hoarse voice continued. It belonged to a tall darkspawn, facing the man on his knees.

Drea stifled a gasp and pressed herself back against the wall. She had to trust her eyes, but everything in her being told her it was wrong. She could _not_ have just seen one of the mindless creatures talking. Quickly, her disciplined mind shut down all thought, leaving her to focus on saving the seneschal. If she tried to process what she had just seen, she would be paralyzed with confusion. Leaning in towards Anders she hissed, "The seneschal must be saved. Anders, on my word, I want you ready to hurl a bolt at the darkspawn holding him." Wordlessly, he nodded and began working up the energy between his fingertips.

Varel's voice carried over to the group, "Others will come creature, they will stop you!"

"It seems your words be true, more than you are guessing," the creature said as it cast its gaze towards the wall where Drea hid.

"That bastard knows we're here," Drea cursed under her breath as her heart pounded. Pushing herself away from the wall, she moved to charge. "Now Anders," she ordered as she raced forward.

"Capture the Grey Warden. The others, they may be killed," the darkspawn shouted. Drea's team hesitated in pure shock at seeing the creature speak. As the other darkspawn scrambled to charge, however, the adrenaline rush in their bodies pushed them to attack.

Seeing the others, Seneschal Varel shouted, "Commander!" As he spoke, he felt the blade at his throat suddenly jerk away. Without hesitating, he rolled to the side and onto his feet. The darkspawn that held him was violently convulsing and he could see sparks of blue arcing over its flesh. Springing forward, he pried the sword from the beast's smoldering hands and slashed its throat.

The group easily overwhelmed the darkspawn on the roof and the seneschal was only able to sink his blades into one other creature before the battle was over. Keeping a weary eye on the corpses as their dark blood pooled onto the stone floor, the seneschal finally spoke, "Commander, am I ever glad to see you. I owe you my life."

Reaching over to clasp his arm, Drea nodded firmly, "I only wish I had gotten here sooner." Being relatively sure the Vigil was secured, she felt the fight melt from her bones, and was left drained. All the exhaustion from her foolish traveling choices caught up to her, and it was all she could do to not collapse with the other bodies on the ground.

Intensely staring at the corpses on the stone, the seneschal shook his head, "Then you'd be gone too. From what I can tell, the Wardens from Orlais were taken. It…it was horrible. They were everywhere, like swarming locusts. I've never seen anything like it."

"Where did they come from?" Mhairi broke into the conversation.

Varel spread his hands, having no answer. "They did not break into the Vigil, they came from inside. I know the cellars run pretty deep…they might have found a connection to them from the Deep roads."

Tapping her fingers along her chin, Drea inwardly groaned while keeping her face neutral. The Vigil was not secured and she could not afford to rest until it was. Somehow, she'd have to find the energy to push further as giving up was not an option. Finally answering, she nodded, "That would make sense. Seneschal Varel, I apologize that I have no time for proper introductions, but until I check the cellars, we are not safe. From what I have seen, we will not survive a second attack. In the meantime…we came across a lot of survivors that we sent to the front gate. I need you to go on easy on the servants - they have gone through a traumatic time…but I _need_ the Vigil functioning. We will need food and lodgings." Gesturing to Anders, she added, "He may have been a prisoner last night, but tonight he will be our guest."

"Yes, of course," the Seneschal replied, not flinching at the sudden barrage of commands. "I will also begin the guards disposing of the bodies."

"Excellent," Drea approved. As she wearily turned to walk from the roof, she suddenly felt a new warmth running through her veins. Her heart quickened, shrugging off its exhaustion, leaving her bursting with new energy. She spun around to face Anders, shooting him a dark look, "I did not ask you to cast on me."

Taking a step back, Anders threw his hands up in submission, "I assure you, it's out of purely selfish reasons! And I won't do it again!" Drea narrowed her eyes at him, but did not interrupt, "It's just…after seeing my astounding battle prowess, I was sure you would ask me to follow you to the cellar. And of course I have no objections my dear lady, but I _would_ prefer not to follow someone who looks ready to faint dead away."

Drea pursed her lips together in thought. Wynne, the only other mage she really knew, would never have cast upon her without her permission but his intentions appeared to be good. Suddenly, Arkon barked and hopped beside her before bounding over to Anders. Raising her eyebrow, she looked from Arkon to Anders, losing her train of thought. "Him too?" she asked. Carefully, he nodded, unsure if that would upset her further. Arkon affectionately butted his head against Anders' leg, appreciating the mage's efforts. Finally, Drea quietly chuckled, "Well, it seems you've made a friend." Walking away she threw over her shoulder, "I hope you like rabbit carcasses in your knapsack!"

Anders started to follow her, as did the others, when her words dawned on him. Pausing he looked down at the eager mabari and back up to Drea who was still walking away, "Wait…like what?"


	6. Stretching the Sanity

_This one is late, but it gave me a hard time! I wanted to keep it true to the game as much as I could, but with Alistair's conversation, it just didn't work. So finally I gave in and did what felt right. And I know it feels like a lot crammed into one chapter, but it speaks to how disjointed it all is for Drea...I think anyhow:) Hope you like it!  


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**~Stretching the Sanity~**

The sun had not yet risen when Drea left her room. Already fully dressed in her armour, she started walking through the Vigil towards the main hall, curious about her new surroundings. As always, Arkon was close at her side. She was impressed with how much the servants and guards had cleaned up from the devastation of the attack. There were no bodies, human nor darkspawn, and most of the bloodstains had been scrubbed from the stone floor and walls. Although there was still a great deal of work to be done, it was an incredible start.

Despite her best effort, the large wooden door to the main hall creaked loudly when she opened it and thudded solidly behind her. She cringed slightly, not wanting anything to disturb the resting servants and guards who worked so tirelessly. A chuckle from the far end quickly drew her attention and she saw Seneschal Varel smiling at her efforts, "Don't worry Commander, the noises carry more in here than they do down the hallway."

"Good," she commented coolly, as she confidently strode up the centre of the hall towards the man with the graying hair. "I apologize if I disturbed you," she added.

"Not at all," he assured her. "The older I get, the less sleep I seem to need, so I tend to start on things early. Besides Commander, the Vigil belongs to you now. You are free to do as you please." Again, he smiled and Drea couldn't help but notice his kind eyes that crinkled in the corners. His demeanor was calm but strong, speaking to his experience and presumable wisdom. Even in such a short amount of time, she found herself liking him. But questions nagged at her…

Finally reaching him, she clasped his arm in greeting and offered him a tight-lipped smile. For a moment, she continued to stare at the man, not entirely sure how to continue. Small doubts had nipped at her when she heard of his history and she knew she had to address them, but wasn't sure if this was too soon. Steepling her fingers, she finally decided to push on, "Seneschal Varel…this might strike you as sudden, but I must address this and have never been known for beating around the bush. From what I understand, you served Rendon Howe and..."

"Ah," Varel quickly replied as he nodded knowingly. "If I may say, this does not seem sudden at all. Given your history, I rather expected to have this conversation and I appreciate your directness. It is important for you to know those who will be serving at your back." Pausing briefly, he reflected a moment before continuing, "Yes, I once served Rendon Howe. However, he had me disgracefully relieved of my duties. I believe I was fortunate to get out with my life."

"For what reason?" Drea asked, her voice betraying her surprise.

Without flinching, Varel answered, "For questioning his orders. I found I could not agree with the direction he was taking and we began to argue with frequency. This was well before the appalling attack on Highever…my sincerest condolences Commander," he let the words linger as she nodded in acknowledgement. "He removed me from the Vigil and I found myself in Amaranthine for a few years. After his demise, those left here at the Vigil asked me to return to keep order in the arling until the new Commander arrived. It is, of course, up to you now if I remain."

Drea evenly held his gaze for several moments. It would not be difficult to verify that story, but she sensed he spoke the truth. His disappointment with Howe was enough for her to want him to remain, and the arling seemed to do well under his direction. "I would actually appreciate if you continued as the seneschal," she replied as she patted her hand on his shoulder. He bowed in response.

The door groaned loudly behind them as a woman pushed her way into the room, "My apologies if I am interrupting."

"Not at all, please come in," Seneschal Varel motioned for the woman to approach. Crossing the room, the woman stood before the pair and Varel continued, "Commander, this is Ambassador Cera, sent as a representative from the Circle of Magi at the request of the Wardens from Orlais."

"Yes," Drea replied as she took the ambassador's hand, "I imagine they would want someone on hand to help them prepare for the Joining rituals."

"That, and to work with runes," Cera agreed. "It seems you are, once again, the only Grey Warden in Ferelden. I imagine you would want to proceed with the Joining as soon as possible and wanted to inform you that I reviewed the parchments that the Wardens from Orlais provided. I expect I can have the mixture prepared as early as nightfall if you should wish." Drea was grateful both to Cera and the missing Wardens.

It was shortly after introductions that the Vigil became bustling - apparently everyone was too anxious from the attack to sleep much into the morning. As she explored the Vigil, her companions eventually caught up with her. While they spoke with Voldrik, a dwarf dedicated to rebuilding the Keep walls, one of the guards ran up to her, breathlessly explaining he spotted travelers on the road. Anticipating more trouble, Drea and the others hurried to the gate.

The realization that they were flying royal banners put her at ease and made her nervous. "Time to roll out the welcome mat," she muttered to herself, "Or at least what's left of it." Sure enough, Alistair was leading the small army as they marched towards the Vigil with purpose. "Greetings your Majesty," Drea called when they neared.

Drawing the soldiers to a halt, the shock was evident on his face. Not even trying to mask it, Alistair flatly stated, "Well…I didn't expect to see you here."

Giving a polite bow, Drea replied, "I know. I would have sent you word of my plans but I got an urgent message from the seneschal asking me to come immediately. It seems there is a surge in darkspawn numbers in the arling. I only just arrived yesterday…"

"Oh. Well, I'm glad to see you're alright," Alistair replied courteously, not sure what else to say. He was expecting to welcome the Orlesian Wardens and had not considered the idea that he may find her here.

Before Drea had a chance to reply, Oghren broke in, "And what am I, chopped nug liver?"

"Well, that would explain the smell," Alistair quipped, a faint smile on his lips.

The dwarf sputtered, but before he could retaliate, a woman in Templar armour marched up from among the King's ranks, "Be careful your Highness, he is a dangerous criminal."

Alistair's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he replied, "The dwarf is a bit of an ass, but I don't know if…"

"She means me," Anders interjected in a dull tone. He glanced at Drea and cast his eyes to the ground. The information wasn't new to her, but she could see his shame and frustration.

"This man is not only a wanted apostate," the Templar angrily continued, pointing her finger menacingly, "but he is also to be charged with murder!"

"Murder?" Anders asked incredulously as his snapped his attention forward.

"The two that apprehended you would _never_ have let you slip from their grasp," she retort, her words becoming heated as she shot daggers from her eyes.

Wanting to clarify before the situation escalated, Drea addressed the Templar, "They did die, yes. But they died in a darkspawn attack, not at the hands of a mage – I saw their bodies myself."

Alistair wanted to ask what she meant by attack, but before he could, the woman spat, "But did you see the crime?"

The seriousness of the Templar's accusation was not lost on Drea, and her temper instantly flared. Throwing her shoulders back, her voice turned ice as she questioned, "Are you questioning my intelligence, or my integrity?" The woman's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. Before she could stammer an apology, Drea continued in a low, almost threatening tone, "You have my condolences. I know what it is to lose good men as I have lost many including some in the attack that claimed your men. But I suspect the reason you are so eager to pin Anders with murder is because the only way to stop him from a humiliating eighth escape is to have him at the end of the hangman's noose." As she spoke, she watched Templar's eyes go from panic to outrage. Not letting her get a word in, Drea calmly finished, "But I offer an alternative…Anders is to remain here. I invoke the Right of Conscription."

"What?" the Templar finally shouted. Her face was twisted in anger even as she tried to control her voice, "No, absolutely not!" She turned to the King for support.

Alistair's face grew serious. "Even if I disagreed," he replied after a moment, "the Grey Wardens still retain the Right of Conscription. Her decision stands." The Templar, tense with rage bowed her head in resentful acknowledgement and fell back with the other men. Anders stared at the Warden in shock. "Commander," Alistair asked after the commotion stopped, "May I have a word?"

"Of course," Drea quickly agreed, although she wasn't really sure she wanted to. They both gestured for their respective parties to stand at ease as Alistair led Drea away from the group of people.

After they were far enough away from the ears of the others, Alistair spoke quietly, apparently having already forgotten about the mention of an attack, "Before things got any more out of hand, I just wanted to give you some updates and I didn't think it was a good idea to do that in front of everyone." Drea nodded at his choice, agreeing it was best to keep personal talk away from the troops. "Well…Wynne decided to stay at the Palace to serve as advisor after all. First Enchanter Irving has been after her to take his place though, and I wouldn't be surprised if she eventually does. I suppose we'll have to wait and see…" his voice trailed off for a moment as he thought of what else to tell her. "Oh, and Zevran came to me shortly after you left. He was full of hints and innuendo as usual, but I did give him his pick of men. I suppose technically I don't know what for, but…well," he shrugged. Drea smiled as she nodded. Indeed, Zevran had been vague with her as well and she had to wonder if that was just the way of the Crows.

Before she could say anything, Alistair continued, "Oh and what else? Let's see…oh yes. And you completely devastated Leliana when you left Denerim."

His sudden words shocked her, but she could see in his eyes that he had been planning them since the day she left Denerim. It was a knife stabbing into her old wound and the pain was sharp. With the pain came the anger that he fooled her into thinking he actually wanted to talk with her. "What was I supposed to do?" she snapped, her exhaustion stripping her of her composure, "She was leaving for Orlais."

"Not even a goodbye Dre?" he cut her off. "You really hurt her."

"Do we have to do this now?" Drea had already turned to start walking away.

"Why?" Alistair asked sarcastically, "Is there another time you'd rather hear how much you hurt a dear friend?"

Freezing, Drea finally turned back. "I imagine there would _have_ to be a better time than this, yes. It just so happens that the darkspawn attack was yesterday here at the Vigil. I've got a skeleton crew left and none of the Orlesian Wardens are accounted for. I'm just trying to hold it together and sort through a whole pile of chaos. So if you're quite finished twisting the knife, I don't have any more time to dwell on that one goodbye too many."

Alistair's gloating expression turned to guilt when he realized his poor timing. "It was here?" he asked, not quite willing to apologize.

"Yes. And if I were you, I'd get back to Denerim," she replied, forcing herself to put the vision of a tearful Leliana from her mind.

He shook his head, "I can't, I'm on my way to deal with a problem in the Bannorn…Drea, what's going on?"

Letting out a long hiss of air, Drea finally shrugged, "I honestly don't know Alistair. I can tell you they feel different than the ones of the Blight, more…distant. I think that might be how they were able to surprise the Orlesian Wardens – they may have thought the darkspawn were amassing nearby when they were already in the Vigil. Just stay alert and get back when you can. I'll forward you my whole report once I know more." It was all she could offer; everything was too fresh and confused. Again, she started to walk back towards their parties as she added, "You are welcome to rest or restock if you'd like. I'll have to send the seneschal though; he knows what resources we still have." Alistair followed, but refused her offer. With an awkward goodbye, he was leading his soldiers away from the Vigil, anxious to see to his responsibilities and return to Denerim.

Watching him leave brought up many things: pain, regret, frustration. Having no time for any of those, she focused on what tasks still required her attention. She started to return to the Vigil when Anders approached her, unaware of the churning emotions that lie beneath the surface, "I wanted to thank you for saving my hide Commander."

Pausing to regard the mage she frowned. "Don't be too quick to thank me," she replied gruffly, "I might have just traded you one prison for another."

Within a few steps, one of the guards fell into stride with the group long enough to remind Drea of the prisoner that sat in the dungeon. Sighing, Drea pulled up short, forcing the others to stop with her. Turning to Oghren, she gestured in Voldrik's direction, "I would appreciate if you would finish the business with Voldrik about repairing the Keep's walls."

"Why?" Oghren asked in his deep, gravelly voice, "Because I'm a dwarf too? Like there's some nug humping dwarf code?"

Leaning in close, she replied, "Because I have too many demands on me, but rebuilding the walls is top priority. I need someone I trust on it. Make sure he gets everything he needs." Obviously surprised, Oghren only nodded with a grin. "Go with him," she added to the others.

As she strode into the dungeon with Arkon at her heels, a look of relief washed over the cell guard. "I'm glad you're here Commander. He's been locked up for three nights now. This one was protected while good men died." Drea looked from the nervous cell guard to the prisoner sitting on the floor. His dark brown hair was pulled back by a braid, with some loose bits hanging in his eyes as he furiously glared up at the pair. Her boots clicked loudly as she walked over to the cell door, gesturing for the guard to unlock it.

Seething with anger, the prisoner rose to his feet while she opened the door. With a sneer, he spoke, "If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all that is evil. Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall with lightening bolts shooting out of your eyes?"

Drea crossed her arms, regarding the prisoner with a suspicious look. All the anger from her run in with Alistair was still dangerously close to the surface, but she tried to keep it in check as she evaluated the situation. Cocking her head to the side she responded, "Depends on how angry someone makes me."

"That's right," the prisoner mocked, "And then you kill them. Somehow I just thought the _murderer_ of my _father_ would be more impressive. I am Nathaniel Howe. My family used to own these lands until you murdered my father. Do you even remember my him?"

Charging past the door, Drea stormed up to Nathaniel, "A Howe? Arl Howe _killed_ my family. He deserved everything he got!"

A dark expression crossed Nathaniel's face, "Your family was going to sell us out to the Orlesians." His tone was so matter-of-fact that it was as insulting as his statement.

"_My_ family fought for the King!" Controlling her rage, she finally spat, "I suppose your father told you that."

"How could he? A Grey Warden stole into his estate and slaughtered him before I could even talk to him," he finally lost his cool demeanor and shouted at the Warden.

Taking a step back, Drea nodded, understanding. "And so you came here to kill me then?"

Raising an eyebrow, Nathaniel inclined his head in agreement, "You're quick, I'll give you that."

Arkon began to growl from outside the cell as his back started to haunch aggressively. The cell guard passed his gaze from the two in the cell to the dog - not sure which was the bigger threat. To his surprise, Drea stripped off a gauntlet and flung it to the ground. "Fine," her voice was unnaturally calm, "I'll give you one free shot so you'd better make it count."

From behind them, the guard blurted, "Commander?"

Remembering he was still there, she turned around. "Walk away soldier. _Walk away right now_," she demanded in a firm tone, leaving no room for arguing. Quickly, the guard hurried from the room. Turning back to Nathaniel, she threw her other gauntlet down at his feet.

Nathaniel froze, stunned by the sudden turn in conversation. For a moment, his anger was suspended by his surprise, "I…Are you serious?"

"You've wanted this for too long to stop now right? One shot, right here," she growled as she pointed to her chin. "Do it," she urged, quickly adding, "if you think it will make it all go away."

Standing there with his hand balled into a tight fist he frowned, unsure if this was some sort of a joke. Was she baiting him? Hesitantly he asked, "What?"

"The anger," she replied, her voice dripping with contempt. Still standing toe to toe with the Howe she pushed, "Hitting me…killing me…it won't make it go away. I should know best on that. I _hated_ your father, and for what he did to my family I killed him. Maker's Blood, I'd kill him again if I could." Drea paused, and with a sudden moroseness she finished, "But it didn't change anything. My family was still gone, and even after I killed him, I was left with all this…anger. It didn't go away. But hey…maybe you'll have better luck."

Nathaniel's jaw clenched as tightly as his fist while he stared the Warden down. His nostrils flared, but he stayed his hand, too unsure at her sudden invitation. Although he could easily picture cracking his fist against her arrogant mouth he was sure it would be sealing his own fate. In a quick motion, Drea finally pushed him hard, slamming him against the wall. "Come on _Howe_!" Nathaniel's eyes sparked with fire, but still, he stayed his hand, showing remarkable control. Drawing her face up to his she hissed, "Trust me, no matter how much hate you feel for me I feel for you too. So hit me! You _know_ you want to."

Finally stepping forward, Nathaniel shoved Drea off him. "I…I don't know what I want." he finally admitted. I did come here planning to kill you but…once I got here I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things. It's all I have left."

It was Drea's turn to clench her jaw as she broke eye contact, trying to stop herself from reacting any further. A piece of her hair had fallen loose and trembled lightly - a silent sign of her fury. Nathaniel sighed, "Look, I'm sorry about whatever happened with the Couslands. It sounds horrible. The entire war was. And…I was squired away in the Free Marches, so I truly didn't know what my father was up to. But whatever my father did, my _entire_ family shouldn't suffer for it. We're pariahs now…we've lost everything."

Finally looking back into Nathaniel's eyes, she replied stiffly, "My entire family didn't deserve to _die _either. _I've_ lost everything."

Keeping his eyes fixed on her, Nathaniel's lips drew into a tight line. He remained silent.

Suddenly, the door burst open and the Seneschal rushed into the room, "Is everything alright? The guard said I had to hurry…" he paused, seeing the two were only standing and talking. Cautiously he continued, "But I see you have met the prisoner. An…interesting fellow isn't he? Have you decided what to do with him?"

Taking another step back, giving them both a bit more breathing room she asked. "I heard it took four Wardens to take you down?"

Nathaniel shrugged, "Yes, well I didn't spend my time away chasing skirts. I learned useful things, fighting, poisons, traps…"

Nodding Drea spoke over her shoulder to the Seneschal, "Perfect. Then I invoke the Right of Conscription." Turning on her heel, she walked towards the cell door.

Taking a few steps after her, Nathaniel sputtered, "What? No, absolutely not! Hang me first!"

Having reached the door, Drea spun back to face him and smoothly closed the cell door. Coldly, she replied, "At what point did I suggest I was giving you a choice?"

Seeing he was locked back up in the cell, Nathaniel gripped the bars as he asked, "Do you really want a Howe as a Grey Warden? A Howe that wants you dead? A Howe that _you_ want dead?"

With his eyes widening in surprise, Seneschal Varel broke into the conversation, "A Howe?"

Waving Varel into silence, Drea locked the door before looking back up at Nathaniel. Trying to be casual, she nodded, "In the name of duty, I have had to suffer far worse. As a Howe, I expect you are capable of doing the same." Walking away from the cell towards the exit, she motioned for Varel to follow. Over her shoulder, she added, "The way I see it here are two outcomes for me. Either I get a powerful new recruit. Or I rid the world of another Howe."

The door slammed loudly behind her as she left the dungeon, leaving Nathaniel alone with his grim thoughts.


	7. Two for Flinching

_Author's Note: I think this one is my favourite so far even if it is a bit gritty :)_

* * *

**~Two for Flinching~**

For several days the banns arrived at the Vigil, and finally gathered in the main hall, preparing to swear the Oath of Fealty to their new arlessa. Sitting in her chair, proudly adorned with the outline of mabari war hounds, Drea smiled graciously at lords and ladies in the room. For the first time since the attack on Highever, she was dressed in proper noble robes, determined to live up to her new role within the arling. Personally, she would have preferred ceremonial armour, but was not in the position to make such frivolous requests when it was still a struggle to outfit her soldiers. Even so, with her dark hair swept up in a modest, but attractive style, she easily made the transition from hero to arlessa. Lining up, it was a woman who began, "I promise that I, Bann Esmerelle, will be faithful to the Arl in matters of life, limb, and honour. Never will I bear arms against her or her heirs."

Although she appeared attentive, even periodically nodding and smiling, it wasn't long before her mind wandered off from the repetition of the oath by each of the banns and freeholders. Glancing around the room, she couldn't help but be impressed with her recruits in their spotless armour. Being unable to represent the Grey Wardens, it fell on the recruits to make the presence of the order known. Nathaniel, holding his usual dour expression was closest to the back of the room. Tolerating him on a daily basis proved to be a constant practice of patience for her. _Don't worry, I'll keep my mouth firmly shut _had all but become his personal slogan and was usually muttered after a derisive comment. She knew she would be hard pressed to actually like him, but she had assumed they would have reached some sort of understanding. Unfortunately, in the time since the Joining, the tension had escalated and there was nothing but a steady stream of bitterness between them. Anders, on the other hand, had proven to be full of pleasant conversation. He was a welcomed distraction and often served as the peace keeper between Drea and Nathaniel. Oghren was his usual charming self, but she was grateful he was there and had survived the Joining. It was a relief to have a familiar face and she never had to question his loyalty. And even if no one else appreciated his crude sense of humour, he was always very effective at breaking the tension. The only one missing was Mhairi. Drea deeply regretted that she did not survive the Joining. In the two days she had known her, she could see the potential radiating from her and it was unfortunate that her time was cut short. But it was not something she could dwell on.

As the ceremony drew to a close, Drea snapped her attention back to the nobles in the room before her. Clearing her throat, she rose from her chair, "Lords and ladies, it is my duty to serve as Arlessa and always act in the best interest of the Arling of Amaranthine. I now invite you to relax and enjoy yourselves. Many have traveled quite a distance to be here and I would like you to have a pleasant evening while we celebrate new beginnings."

With that, the nobles slowly started to chat among themselves. These were troubled times and most of them were happy for the distraction. As was proper, Drea quickly started circulating around the room, spending time with each person to try and get to know the people within her arling. Her father had taught her the importance of respecting those in one's service and she was easily able to project herself as a positive and confident arlessa. Before long, she found herself speaking with Lord Eddelbrek, representative of many of the outlying rural areas. To her surprise she realized she had met him before - he was a friend of her father's. "I am pleased, albeit a little surprised that you remember me," Lord Eddelbrek admitted. "I swear to you and Andraste that I had nothing to do with the attack against Highever. It was a disgrace."

"I appreciate that," she replied, giving a slight nod.

"And…" he started hesitantly, "While I have you…I know this is quite inappropriate, but I was hoping to talk to you about the protection of the outlying rural areas." He maintained a slight grimace on his face to show he was embarrassed to be bringing this up. It did not come across as sincere however, considering he plowed right into the topic. "As you must already be aware, the darkspawn attacks are increasing in frequency, and some in our arling do not have the comfort of the city walls. On the plains, the situation is dire. I…"

"So I see Lord Eddelbrek wastes no time," a shrill voice interrupted him. Drea turned to the new person who joined the conversation to see it was Bann Esmerelle. Taking Drea's hand she introduced herself again, "I represent the great City of Amaranthine. Since Lord Eddelbrek had decided to sink so low as to bring this up now, I would like to point out that the city is also in need of protection."

Glaring at Bann Esmerelle, Lord Eddelbrek was quick to argue, "What more protection do you need? The city is surrounded by a stone wall that shields it from harm. The farmers are defenseless! They are simple folks on small, vulnerable plots of land - they need the Arlessa's help."

Rolling her eyes, Bann Esmerelle shot back, "Oh please. Amaranthine is the jewel of arling, she _must_ be protected. It took generations to build! If she falls, this great arling will be diminished."

"And if the farms fall, what will all the people in the precious city eat? The arling will starve," Lord Eddelbrek challenged. By this time, the heated pair had turned to face each other virtually forgetting Drea was among them.

Firmly clapping one hand on each person's shoulder, she felt them jump slightly under her touch. Falling silent, they turned to face her and she gave a gentle pat before dropping her hands by her side. "I appreciate the points you both make. Seneschal Varel currently knows the arling better than I do, and I can promise that I will speak with him at length about this. Thank you both for bringing this matter to my attention." Both of them were ready to argue more, to try and push her into an immediate answer, but she had left no room for them to do so. Tightly smiling they both nodded to her out of respect before politely excusing themselves.

Inwardly, she was chuckling to herself at their utter lack of couth. It was no surprise to her that the dressed up nobility were little more than bickering children, but it was always a slight disappointment to see it. She couldn't deny it was definitely more comfortable on the battlefield - the enemy was clear and the solution was obvious.

The rest of the evening seemed to drag on, but eventually it came to a close. By noon the next day, all of the Vigil's company had set out on the road, eager to get back to their homes. Shortly after that, Drea was in the training yard with her wasters in hand. Since her arrival, each single day felt like several and for each problem she solved it seemed the three more sprang up in its place. It was a blur. And, whenever the seneschal wasn't cornering her with more issues, Nathaniel was passive-aggressively pushing her buttons. Even the sight of his smug face was enough to bring the storm cloud to her mind. Desperately needing to centre herself, she took her aggressions out on the training dummies. Nothing cleared her mind like the focus she found in battle, and beating on padding attached to a wooden post was the closest thing she had.

The training grounds were often a point of interest for others, either to study fellow warriors or simply admire the violent dance. Most of Drea's admirers were made up of her recruits, as they stood nearby and secured their armour. It was only a matter of time until she demanded they train as well. Already prepared, Nathaniel watched the Commander closely, finally clicking his tongue with disgust. Oghren shot him a questioning frown, so he elaborated, "Do you see that? She's _always_ leading in the same way. For the reputation she has, she has astoundingly lazy tactics."

Oghren's eyes lit up with amusement, "You don't say."

Still focusing on Drea, Nathaniel quickly pointed, "Ugh, and see? Right there, she keeps leaving herself wide open. I just don't understand it. Are the darkspawn easily stunned or something to be bested by that?"

"You could do better?" Oghren asked, not trying to hide his grin.

"Of course," Nathaniel replied flatly.

"What are you doing over here then? You should challenge her. Go sodding prove yourself!" Oghren bellowed.

With his chest puffed, Nathaniel nodded and strode away. Surprised, Anders turned to Oghren, "What did you do that for?"

Oghren casually shrugged, "I'm bored."

"But they'll kill each other," Anders argued.

Chuckling, Oghren agreed, "And then I'll be _less_ bored."

Drea heard someone approaching her on the grounds, but did not respond - it was open to all the soldiers and recruits. When she glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw it was Nathaniel however, the bile rose in the back of her throat.

"I hope you don't consider mindlessly smashing a dummy as some form of training. I mean…what exactly can you expect to learn from that?" he asked as he approached. The question was honest enough, but there was more than just a hint of arrogance to his tone.

"I suppose that's your way of offering to practice with me?" she snapped. He spread his hands apart in casual agreement. "You don't want to do that," she quickly replied.

"Why?" he asked in a mocking tone, "Are you scared?"

"Scared I might kill a recruit, yes," she answered in a humourless voice.

"True, from what I hear, that _is _your way," he pushed with a defiant stare.

Silently glaring, she quickly whipped her two short swords at him without warning. He smoothly snatched them out of the air as she grabbed another set off the weapon rack.

Easily, they both started the dance - slowly circling one another, letting the tension between them build as they exchanged dark glances. With her lip curling into a sneer, she finally broke forward, trying to catch him off guard.

His sword quickly blocked hers with such force it threatened to knock the waster from her hand. Again, they circled as she carefully watched his foot work. He matched her step for step. As before, she rushed forward, stabbing at him and as before was effectively blocked. With a smirk, he finally asked, "Don't you want to know how I'm anticipating you?"

"No," she replied through gritted teeth, and without resuming their circling, she attacked again. Confidently, he moved to block, only to find his waster slicing through the air with no resistance. As his arc finished, he felt her dagger painfully jab into his ribs as she swiftly ducked past his swing. "I want to know how you _didn't_ anticipate that," she hissed. Already, he could feel the angry welt swelling under his leather armour. Turning around to face her, she proudly stood smiling with an eyebrow raised at how easily she was able to land the first hit.

All the humour quickly dropped from his face as he realized he had been fooled. Clenching his jaw to keep from speaking out, he attacked her, determined to wipe the smile from her face. Effortlessly, she shifted out of his path as he brought his sword down just inches from her. But before she could shuffle back, Nathaniel jerked his arm and sharply elbowed her in the side. It did little damage, but proved he could move as quickly as her. Moving clear of him, they began to circle one another again. Carefully, they both scrutinized each other, determined not to underestimate the other again. In perfect synchronization, they both charged and met in the centre as their wasters crashed together.

An audience started to form around the border of the training grounds as the pair picked up speed. Their blades were a blur to those watching, but the steady smacking sound of wood striking wood was proof that they were connecting. Finally, the two came to a stop as their blades were locked. Breathing heavily, they glared at each other through their locked weapons. Suddenly, Nathaniel ran his blade up the length of hers and connected the butt of his waster hard into her collarbone, knocking her back. Her shoulder instantly tightened from the impact so as she paced, she rotated her arm to loosen it again. "It's not just the blade you need to watch out for," Nathaniel informed her, an obvious statement that sent Drea's blood boiling.

With a growl, Drea flung herself at Nathaniel, who slapped her blades away. As he did, he left his side open and Drea swiftly kicked him in the ribs where she had previously stuck her dagger. "Refusing to close your gaps? Seems I am still just smashing a dummy," she retorted.

Grunting in pain, Nathaniel didn't answer. Drea knew she was close to losing the match as she was on the edge of losing her temper…but the saving grace was she could tell Nathaniel was on the edge too. Storming forward, their swords met again and quickly were whirling too quickly for anyone to track. Both were instinctively blocking the other and it was evident they had similar training - the key was in speed not strength.

Suddenly, the blur stopped. Nathaniel had Drea's sword trapped between his crossed wasters. Before she could pull it free, Nathaniel snapped his wrists in quick spin and the sword was wretched from her grasp. Unfortunately, she refused to let go and could hear the crunching sound ripple through her wrist as the blade fell away regardless. Jumping back, she felt the pain shooting up the length of her arm as her wrist started to swell. Broken. She tucked her arm close to her, and the pain threw her over the edge.

Enraged she charged Nathaniel. He sidestepped her swing, but quickly she reversed, pulling it upward and jamming painfully into the underside of Nathaniel's wrist. His waster instantly dropped to the ground and she quickly kicked it away. Rubbing his wrist, his eyes grew stony but she refused to give him room to breathe.

Slicing at him, she forced him into a defensive pose to block her swing, but she suddenly switched hands and moved in on his exposed side. Without thinking, his body reacted and his arm drew back to protect his ribs. He instantly felt pain and after seeing the stunned expression on Drea's face, looked down to see he had pinned her waster under his arm. It was crushing painfully into his ribs, but Nathaniel quickly turned away to try and disarm her.

Not wanting two broken wrists, she let the waster go. Nathaniel closed in with his dagger, forcing her to dodge or block with her forearms. New bruises were angrily forming on her arms, but the only pain she could feel was from her broken wrist. Even unarmed, she managed to land several solid hits, infuriating Nathaniel who should have had the advantage. Finally, she braced her good wrist against his and delivered a powerful smack to the back of his hand, sending the dagger flying from his grasp. Knocking his arm out of the way for a brief opening, she dove forward and before he could snap his arm back down, she angrily punched her fists into his ribs.

The spar had quickly degraded into a fight fit for a shady tavern. With each blow she struck, she felt the indescribable pain consume her entire arm, but it didn't stop her. The pain fueled her, and she could feel his crunching bones under her knuckles, vaguely hearing Nathaniel cry out. Finally, he threw his shoulder forward, connecting with her face and swept her legs out from under her. She hit the ground before she felt the pain burst through her nose and spread out through her skull. As a proud smile oozed onto his lips, she clamped her legs around Nathaniel's feet and quickly forced herself to roll over.

Nathaniel's face was cracked into the ground before he could even raise his hands. Kicking himself free of her legs, he scooped up a nearby waster as he hopped to his feet. Instead of attacking, he started to pace like an angry, caged animal as he tried to catch the breath that was violently knocked from his lungs. Wiping the dirt from his mouth with the back of his hand, he started poking at his teeth with his tongue. Convinced none had been knocked out, he spat a glob of blood onto the ground. With no dirt obstructing his newly split lip, blood started to flow freely down his chin. Watching him carefully, Drea reached up to gingerly touch her nose, which was throbbing as badly as her wrist. Amazingly, it didn't seem to be broken, but blood was splattered across her face. Then, seeing him tightly grip the waster, she tensed, preparing to roll out of the way of his next attack.

Suddenly, they both became aware of shouting. Breaking past the gathered audience, Anders raced towards them, yelling loudly, "What is this? Are you two trying to kill each other? Have you gone _insane_?" As he approached, he thrust himself between the two, forcing them to stop. Looking from Anders to Nathaniel, she understood it was over. With a grunt, Nathaniel flung his waster to the ground. "It's bad enough that I have you heal you after a run in with the darkspawn. Now I'm going to have to be on hand every time you _spar_? Unbelievable!"

The pair ignored the angered mage to glare deeply at one another while they nosily tried to catch their breath. Finally, Nathaniel bent down and offered Drea his hand. Still eyeing him suspiciously, she accepted, and he helped her to her feet. Nathaniel stood, favoring his cracked ribs while Drea pulled her swollen wrist to her chest and Anders shook his head. Finally, Drea nodded at Nathaniel, who returned the gesture. Exchanging no words, the two limped off the field in opposite directions, leaving Anders grumbling loudly. As she left, she was sure she heard Oghren proudly shout that he may be able to teach her how to be a berserker after all.

It was well into the evening when Drea heard a knock at her chamber door. Before she could answer, Anders poked his head in the room. "And here I was hoping you wouldn't be decent," he quipped.

She remained seated on her bench with her legs stretched out,"I suppose you'll have to settle for my being informal…I won't be getting up to greet you," she replied with a slight grimace on her face.

"Just as well," Anders sighed, "Even with my healing spells, I doubt all the welts and bruises have cleared up just yet. I'll wait to catch you being indecent once you look less mangled. For now, I've just stopped by to check on you." Without hesitating, he crossed the room and started looking her over - starting with her wrist. She was too worn out for a witty reply, but she cooperated. "The good news is, he is in as rough of shape as you are…I wish I could figure out why you hate him so much," Anders mumbled the last sentence almost under his breath.

"I don't hate him," she stated sharply. Anders was not rattled and simply paused long enough to raise his eyebrow at her. "I'm not _fond_ of the fact that he's a Howe," she finished.

"Ah, so he's got his father's name and a chip on his shoulder. Well it might interest you to know that he's been talking to some of the people who have been here since he was young, like the groundskeeper and the seneschal. I'm sure you can imagine some of what he's learning especially regarding his father," Anders tone remained light as he finished checking her over. He glanced up to see her frown and added, "I'm just saying you might want to consider easing up on him is all. It's not a good time for him either."

Satisfied that she was healing well, he finally sat on the chair across from her. For a moment Drea calmly watched Anders before settling back on her bench. "Why the concern Anders?" she asked, showing no hint of irritation, only curiosity. "This doesn't really involve you."

He stared at her incredulously before finally speaking, "Are you seriously saying that to me? It doesn't involve me? It's only taken up my entire afternoon putting you both back together after you finished tearing each other apart! What, do you think this is easy on me? That it takes no effort; I just wave my arms about?" Quickly giving up, Anders sighed and got to his feet. Pausing at the door he turned back to Drea, "Look, cut him some slack or don't. You're right; it's none of my business. But just know it _does_ take a lot out of me to fix you both up. So for _my_ sake, I'd appreciate if two could at least stick to verbally beating each other up." Even as the door closed, Anders caught the muted grin that played on Drea's lips.


	8. Where the Monsters Live

**~Where the Monsters Live~**

Drea sat in the study with her chin resting in her palm as her tapered fingers lightly tapped against her temple. Her journal was sprawled on the table before her and she kept scanning over the same words repeatedly. With a sigh, she stretched out her free hand and started absently drumming her fingers on the solid wood. Ever alert, Arkon snapped his attention to the door but when it actually opened, Drea was so engrossed that she didn't acknowledge it.

"Commander. I didn't realize anyone was in here," the person said. Without looking up, Drea recognized the voice as Nathaniel's. Turning to leave, he reached for the door that was already closing.

Still focused on her papers, Drea called after him, "How's your lip?"

Pausing, Nathaniel let the door close as he turned to face Drea. Without a hint of lightheartedness he replied, "It's fine as long as I don't smile. Which around here is not too difficult." The only thing that kept her eye roll private was the fact her face was still turned towards the journal on the table. After getting no reaction from her, Nathaniel finally asked, "So what is it that has you so enthralled?"

She stopped drumming her fingers and laid her hand flat on the table. Still not looking up, she threw out a short answer, "Some issues have come up and I'm already starting to wonder if being a Warden and an arlessa is a conflict of interest."

Nathaniel remained quiet, giving her time to elaborate. When she did not, he sighed, "Look, it might not have occurred to you, but I may _actually_ be able to understand your dilemma. I was raised in a noble family and I'm learning what it is to be a Grey Warden. It's not exactly your experience, but it's the closest of anyone here."

Finally, Drea looked up at Nathaniel. It annoyed her that he was right, but she couldn't argue. Sitting up, the hand that was propping her chin thudded against the table as she pointed to the first page, "Fine. There are two hunters now in Amaranthine that have apparently come across a large chasm that is swarming with darkspawn. It sounds like it could be an entrance from the Deep Roads, which would explain why the attacks have been so heavy here. As a Warden, I am bound to pursue this." Moving her hand to the next page, she tapped it as she continued, "But as Arlessa Cousland, my concern is with a problem on Pilgrim's Path. It seems that next to no caravans are able to make it through this road - our main trade route. We can already see some of the effects from being cut off like this and it won't take long until serious damage is done to the arling's economy, not to mention the people who will be lacking much needed goods. Nothing I've heard implies darkspawn, but there is a merchant in the city who has been hit particularly hard who might have more information." Drea leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. Wearily she added, "And I've jotted down many more minor issues that Varel keeps um…bringing to my attention but these are the two that really concern me."

Nathaniel crossed his arms and took a moment to mull over the two pressing situations. Carefully he replied, "Basically you don't have enough information at this point and have to track people down in Amaranthine?"

Drea nodded, "As frustrating as that is, yes."

With mention of going to the city, Nathaniel's demeanor changed slightly. Uncharacteristically hesitant, he asked, "Would you consider…letting me come along? I was speaking with Samuel, the groundskeeper and…well he told me that Delilah still lives. She married a shopkeeper and is in the city right now…" He kept his tone neutral, but there was no mistaking the subtle sparkle in his eye.

"A Howe with a hidden, personal agenda? Big surprise," Drea snapped without thinking.

The glint of hope in his eyes turned to stone as he squared his shoulders. Without a word, Nathaniel turned and started marching to the door. "Wait," Drea groaned, knowing she unfairly crossed the line. He kept walking. "Would you just stop?" she asked louder but he neared the door. "_Stop_," she demanded as she pounded her fist on the table and rose to her feet. Her chair loudly scrapped against the stone floor as it was pushed back. As ordered, Nathaniel stopped, but refused to face her. She noticed the quick rise and fall of his shoulders - he was angry.

"Look," her tone was quickly deflated as she spoke, "My brother had left with our soldiers before the assault on Highever, but part of me was sure he and the men were killed after leaving the castle gates. So, when I arrived at Ostagar to find out my brother was still alive, I was ecstatic. He was scouting in the Wilds so I couldn't see him until he returned in the evening but then…the attack came earlier than expected. And I lost him a second time…" her voice trailed off as she stared into the distance. Quietly she continued, "While Alistair grieved for those in his Order that he knew for less than a year, my heart bled for everyone I had ever cared for." The silence sat heavily for a moment until she realized she had drifted off. Glancing back over, she saw that Nathaniel had turned to watch her. Clearing her throat, she quickly moved on, "When Fergus appeared after the Blight it was like the Maker himself smiled on us. I can't deny anyone that. Tell the others to pack; we'll all be leaving for the city in the morning."

He stood stiffly by the door, more than a little surprised she had shared something so personal. Finally he nodded, "Thank you." With that, he left the room.

Frowning at Arkon, who was quietly watching from the corner, Drea slumped into her seat as the air slowly hissed past her lips. "That went well," she muttered.

Before the group had even left the Vigil, Drea made it clear that they would be free to do as they pleased once they reached the city. She would secure two rooms at the Crown and Lion for the night, and would be leaving early the next morning. Excited by this idea, they were all quick to disperse upon arrival while Drea, on the other hand, spent some time with a guard captain at the front gates. He was extremely helpful in explaining the city to her, and even gave her ideas of where to find the men she sought.

Casually, she took in the sight of the city as she set out in search of her first contact. The decent sized city seemed to be structurally sound, but if it truly was the jewel of the arling, it was in desperate need of shining. The tall stone buildings seemed to carry a heavy sadness to them, as though they had seen better days…or perhaps had been built with better days in mind but still lay in wait for them. It was dreary and depressing - not quite what she had expected. As she rounded the corner towards the market, she stopped short.

In the market square stood Nathaniel and a beautiful young woman with flowing dark brown hair. He stepped forward to embrace her as a blissful look settled on his face and suddenly Drea could easily see the family resemblance. His thick, muscular arms seemed to naturally belong around her as he enveloped her with a tenderness Drea never would have expected. His sister was positively giddy as she tightly clutched Nathaniel, tears rolling down her cheek. Finally he stepped back to lovingly smooth her hair and wipe away her tears as she beamed. Quickly, Drea averted her gaze and kept her distance as she passed through the market to her first contact. She had serious business to attend to, and this was no business of hers.

For the size of the city, Drea was pleasantly surprised with how easy it was to navigate. It took her very little time to locate both of her contacts, and left her with many hours to learn all she could of the city. By early evening she made her way to the Crown and Lion to secure her rooms and settled at a table on the second floor that looked over the main tavern. She was scribbling notes her journal when Nathaniel found her. Without waiting for an invitation, he easily slid into the chair across from her and plunked down two mugs. Carefully closing her journal, she pushed the mug back slightly. "I…uh…" she clumsily started.

"It's water. I thought that was a pretty good find in a place like this," he supplied. He was not much of a drinker himself, preferring to keep his senses clear, and he had noticed her subtle avoidance of ale. It wasn't something she announced, and most people never picked up on it as she generally accepted any alcohol that was offered to her. They didn't realize the full mug would eventually get left somewhere.

"It _is_ quite a find," she agreed, bringing the cup back to her and taking a deep drink. The mug clunked lightly against the table as she set it back down. "How did it go with your sister?"

"It was like the Maker smiled on us," he recalled her own words. His slight grin was soon followed by pursed lips as he added, "But she's given me a lot to think about. How did it go with your contacts?"

She noticed his quick change of topic, decided to let it go. "It went well, they were helpful," she replied. "It's clear that I must go to the chasm. I have no explanation for the number of darkspawn the hunters saw here. It's too many for a simple entrance to the Deep Roads, and even a Broodmother doesn't produce in numbers like that. I just hope the people of the arling realize this is the bigger threat, because after talking to the merchant, the trouble on Pilgrim's Path is worse than I thought. It seems body parts of victims from the road are turning up in nearby villages like some sort of threat or warning."

"Or challenge," Nathaniel added. "If these body parts are showing up in villages with none of the villagers being harmed, it tells me it's a decision-making being of intelligence. Maybe it's a person filled with rage over something? Trying to get some point across?"

Drea cocked her head slightly, considering his suggestion, "Possibly. At any rate I don't think it's darkspawn, I doubt even talking darkspawn could be that particular. From the evidence, the only danger is to those who travel the path which is pretty much no one now. I just hope people see it this way and don't think I'm putting their needs second and trying to endanger the economy. I can't have a revolt so early…"

"Are you really that nervous about public opinion?" Nathaniel asked, surprised at the idea.

Absently, Drea traced her fingers over the leather cover of her journal before finally nodding. "When you're being watched, there's a bit of pressure to be successful, yes. Mistress Woolsey was sent by the First Warden in Weisshaupt to be our treasurer, but I can guarantee you her other duty is to report back on our progress."

Nathaniel's eyebrows crinkled in a questioning look, "You really think so?"

Nodding again, she explained, "This venture is too important for them not to keep track. Having Wardens as land owners represents a more respectable form of authority. Sure, they love us now," she gave a small wave of her hand before continuing, "but between Blights after a couple generations without so much as a darkspawn spotting, _we_ remain vigilant but _they_ see us as an outdated Order. The only respect we get are from the dwarves who always deal with darkspawn in the Deep Roads. So when a crisis arises, it's that much harder for us to get the force and resources we need. But, if in each country we owned land and were respected as a member of the noble class, it would be less of a struggle."

Turning his focus on his mug, Nathaniel lightly tapped his fingers along the side. "That does make sense," he agreed. "Personally, about this business on Pilgrim's Path, I see it as a good thing." It was Drea's turn for a questioning look and Nathaniel continued, "It's going to force the merchants into trading through the port with other countries. In fact, Delilah said it's already starting to happen. I mean…we're a _port_ city. Don't you find it a little sad that shutting down _one_ road, even to Denerim, would cripple us like this? The only way for this arling to move ahead and thrive is to embrace the port and increase the trade with other countries. In all of Ferelden, we are in the best position for wealth and our economy should be practically independent from the rest of the country. But instead, people here are too afraid of change and strangers. It's sad. Even as a child, I could see that the poverty here is avoidable - every last person should be living in comfort. It might not be the most pleasant way to make change happen, but I can see good coming from this."

It wasn't lost on her that he commented on the wealth for the arling rather than wealth for himself. Genuinely impressed, Drea replied, "That's very forward thinking Nathaniel. I think you're right, we should be using our position on the sea to our advantage."

For a moment, their involved conversation slowed down. Drea looked around the tavern to see if the other Wardens had arrived. Oghren was perched on a barstool, looking like he may have been there for a while. After scanning the room a second time, she spotted Anders in deep conversation with a stunning blonde woman. She appeared to be very upset, but rather than being the cause, Anders looked as though he were trying to console her. It was her natural instinct to find out what the problem was, but she reminded herself that they were on their own time. Turning back to Nathaniel, she saw his icy eyes narrowed as he also watched the situation with Anders. His dark hair was neatly pulled back in a braid and his face, which had been freshly shaved that morning in anticipation of seeing his sister, already had slight stubble. She had to admit he was a ruggedly handsome man, and as much as she _didn't_ want to admit, someone she was enjoying talking with. Dropping her gaze back down to her water, she quietly asked, "Have you been to the kennels?"

"Again with this?" he snipped, the all-to-familiar hardness back in his tone. In the kennels was a sullen mabari that Drea had come across on the day of her arrival when she was clearing the cellars of darkspawn. The dog's master had fallen victim during the attack and the mabari was inconsolable. As fate would have it, the dog's master, Adria, turned out to be like a mother to Nathaniel. He was deeply hurt by the loss so when Drea suggested he see if the dog would imprint herself to him, it was a sore point. Tearing his eyes from Anders and settling on Drea he asked, "What business is it of yours anyhow?"

"It's not, I suppose," she sighed. Instinctively, her hand dropped down to scratch Arkon's ear. As always, he was near her, but in such a setting, he preferred to keep watch and be alert. When her hand touched him, his stance softened as he leaned towards her. "It's just…" she paused, not exactly sure what to say, but unable to be silent on the topic. Arkon's tongue lolled from his mouth as she continued to scratch. He contentedly panted as she continued, "The mabari are special. Ark has saved me more times than I can count, and that's before the Blight even started. He's not just a dog -we're friends, I mean growing up he got me _into_ as much trouble as he got me out of. And he's so smart, even if he tries to convince people otherwise. I know when I talk with him, he understands just what I'm saying and even though he might not approve of everything I do, he stands by me…loves me unconditionally. No matter what else happens, with him beside me, I am never truly alone. He's about the only thing I can count on." She paused to smile down at Arkon who had turned his head up to see her. It was hard to miss the loving expression in his gaze as he softly whined. Her smile grew and she rubbed the top of his head with both hands, murmuring things to him that no one else could quite catch. Almost reluctantly, she finally turned back to Nathaniel, and finished, "_I_ realize just how much goes on behind those knowing eyes of theirs. If she doesn't reimprint herself to someone else now that Adria is gone, she will die of her depression. That's just so tragic…"

Nathaniel realized that brief exchange was the most human he had ever seen his Commander. He, like everyone else, knew the two were inseparable, but hadn't given any thought to the attachment. It wasn't a huge emotional display, but it was enough to drop the harshness from his voice. "Well, I have been actually," he replied. "She seemed responsive, but I'll make sure to see her when we get back."

Drea smiled, but before she could reply, they were interrupted by Anders and his teary eyed new friend. "I'm really sorry to disturb you Commander but I don't know what else to do," Anders broke into their conversation.

"It's fine," Drea replied, her usual stiffness immediately returning. She gestured to the free chairs at the table, "Please sit."

The woman bowed deeply to Drea before sitting, evidentially already knowing who she was. Nervously she sat and kept her eyes lowered to her lap, continually dabbing at them with the cloth in her hand. Anders rested one hand on the woman's arm as he turned to Drea, apparently volunteering to speak for her. Inwardly he winced as he began, already sure it was pointless to bring this to her, but he had no other ideas, "So times are tight all around in the arling, but this woman is a minstrel. She's been performing at this tavern for nearly a year but this morning the owner cut her loose - there's just not enough money coming in. There's nowhere else in the city for her to go really, but travel to Denerim is too dangerous right now. And, by the time the road does open up, what money she has to buy passage will be used up on food and a room…" His explanation came out in a quick blurt, but even so, the woman's face crumpled again at hearing her hopeless situation. He tightened his grip on her arm and added, "I don't know Commander, I just want to help, but I don't know how."

For a moment, Drea eyed Anders suspiciously. While he had proved to be compassionate, he didn't strike her as the type to get involved with other people's problems. It was obviously the woman's looks that drew him in, but Drea wondered if his concern was genuine, or a lengthy ploy to get her in his bed. Likely both. Nathaniel offered her a shrug, seeing no real harm. Finally, Drea addressed the woman, "What's your name?"

Looking up, her bright blue eyes were still welling with tears. "Ashlyn, my Lord," she replied in a shaking voice.

"Ashlyn," Drea repeated, "I find myself in need of a court minstrel, but am not able to offer much in way of money. If you are interested, you will be supplied with room and board so at least you can hold on to your money to buy passage to Denerim when the road is open again." Both men were taken aback by her offer, but wisely, other than exchanging a look of shock, they kept it to themselves.

Ashlyn blinked rapidly in surprise, causing the tears to drop onto her cheeks. Quickly she wiped them away and with her free hand, caught Drea's arm, "Yes, thank you. Thank you…I…can hardly believe my luck." Her chin quivered as she tried to smile at Drea, still overcome with her emotions.

Only Arkon had noticed Oghren approach as he sauntered over to the last free chair. Having heard the entire conversation he chuckled, "Oh good, new blood!"

"You will keep your grubby mitts off her you little nug," Anders growled defensively, drawing an entertained hoot from Oghren.

Drea frowned at the men who suddenly became little boys fighting over a new toy. Cutting off their exchange, Drea spoke over them, "She will be bringing some much needed class and respectability to the Vigil and will be treated honourably." She shot a warning glance at Oghren and Anders who quickly quieted. "Besides," she added, "music calms the beast. You don't want to be responsible for interrupting that."

Confused, Ashlyn glanced around the table, unsure if she had missed some sort of dark joke. Hesitantly she asked, in her soft spoken voice, "Are you saying you're…a monster?"

Anders and Nathaniel's faces both froze in tight expressions at such a bold, almost insulting question. Oghren laughed loudly. Subtly, Anders patted at her arm, trying to warn her not to say such things, but it was far too late - the question was out there. Drea ignored the Wardens and focused on the naïve minstrel. Unsmiling, in a serious tone, she replied, "Yes I am…Everyone has a darkness inside them, and the people you should never trust are the ones who deny that."

Her uncomfortable words thickly settled on those at the table. Gathering up her things, Drea drew herself to her feet. Offering Ashlyn a small nod she excused herself, "You are welcome to our group, and we will be leaving very early in the morning. But you must all please excuse me; I have a great deal of work to do before I can settle for the night." Everyone respectfully stood as she walked off towards the room with Arkon at her heels.


	9. Conversations in the Dark

_Author's Note: I love when I get inspired by a comment, so thanks again! Hope you all enjoy :)_

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_**~Conversations in the Dark~**_

_Peering over the edge into the deep pit, Drea could make out three writhing, blubbery masses in the dim light. The stench of the broodmothers rose up and threatened to overwhelm her as she tried to decide how to kill them. Even from this distance, she could hear the horrible gnashing of their teeth as they muttered unintelligible things. Standing up straight, she took a step back to survey the area. Turning to her companions for suggestions, she realized Zevran stood among them and although he did not belong, it was not a surprise. He was holding her hand. She was barely able to contain herself as tears formed in her eyes. "Please," she begged him. Her voice wavered even as she desperately tried to keep it steady, "Don't ever let them take me. I'm asking you because I know you'll see it for the act of mercy it is. Even if you have to kill me, please don't let them take me."_

_Gently, he patted her hand as he glanced over his shoulder at the others. They were at camp and their companions were tending to their chores, pretending not to listen. Facing her again, the steel in his eye was resolute, "My dear Warden, I swear to you that so long as I still draw breath, one way or the other, I will not let them take you." Her rush of gratitude broke her and she had to walk away to avoid crying in front of the others._

Drea woke with a gasp as she fought with her drenched sheets, struggling to sit up. As her heart pounded hard in her chest, her eyes darted around the room trying to place where she was. Grasping at the bed with her hands, she noticed the moonlight streaming in through her partly opened shutters and illuminating an attentive mabari. "I'm here…I'm here…" she mumbled to herself, trying to shake off the oppressive dream. Rounding the bed, Arkon stood beside her, whining with concern as he watched her but she didn't seem to notice. In clumsy motions, she tried to brush the hair from her face, but it was firmly plastered to her forehead. Attempting to regain control over herself, she forcefully pushed the thoughts of broodmothers from her mind. It was over - the three they discovered in the chasm in were dead and they were already back at the Vigil.

But as the thoughts of the broodmothers faded, it was replaced by the memories of the ghostly dwarves they encountered. The chasm was just an opening to the dwarven fortress, Kal'Hirol that had been one of the first thaigs claimed by darkspawn. The Veil was obviously thin there as the spirits of hundreds of dwarves were forced to continually repeat their final days preparing for the devastating fall of their home. She had found herself fascinated, intently watching the spirits of the Fade, and yet it made her skin crawl. She was a soldier, not a mage, and that was not her place to have to deal with such things. Scanning over the room again, her gaze settled on the moonlight, only this time the pale blue glow took on an eerie quality. Goosebumps rose on her damp skin and a shiver ran through her body.

"Bloody Andraste!" she cursed under her breath as she kicked herself free of the sheets. Quickly she tied her hair back and threw a robe on over her thin gown. Arkon whined and started skittering after her as she walked to the door. Instinctively she acknowledged the dog by gesturing for him to lie back down. "Get some sleep," she murmured to him. Loudly he huffed and continued to follow. A weary smile emerged as she patted his head, grateful for his company.

The guards kept the hall and pantry torches lit through the night, so it was an effortless walk as the pair made their way down the hall to the kitchen. As she poured herself a glass of water, Arkon settled on the floor next to her, yawning and lowering his head onto his crossed paws. She had just sat down with her water when Oghren came barging into the room. Spotting her drink of choice, he grunted, "Given up on the drink huh?"

Glancing at him she shrugged, "I'm just out of practice, and I need to be able to leave at dawn." Oghren hoisted himself onto a stool across from her and produced his flask from a pocket in his robe. He raised it to her before taking a drink. Drea settled forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Nightmares?"

"Aye," he replied. With a small grin he added, "But not those sissy taint dreams of yours. This was about Branka. Even from beyond the grave that woman can still make my blood run cold." He sighed and had another drink. Drea remained silent, wondering just how often Branka haunted his dreams. Her name had been mentioned more times than Drea would have expected…but she knew very well the way the past seemed to crop up after it had been laid to rest. Not enjoying silences, Oghren changed the topic, "But you know who makes my blood run hot? That Sigrun! She's quite a lively Bronto!"

Drea couldn't argue. Sigrun, her newest recruit, was ready to storm the Kal'Hirol by herself to avenge her fellow members of the Legion of the Dead who had been killed by the newly swarming darkspawn. They joined forces to secure the chasm and the young dwarf proved herself in battle. Although Drea knew better than to get attached to her recruits too early, she was pleased that Sigrun survived the Joining. Running her finger over the rim of her water glass, Drea casually asked, "What about Felsi?"

"Ah, Commander," Oghren sighed, his discomfort at the topic clear, "I tried to settle down, but it's not who I am. We couldn't make it work." He kept his answer vague and Drea could see his vigor quickly fade away. Quietly, he took drinks from his flask and practically bore holes in the table with his eyes. It was plain to see there was more to his story, but the conversation was dead.

Putting him out of his misery, Drea chided, "I see. So now you're here to wantonly chase after my poor recruits?"

He quickly brightened as he rumbled with deep laughter, "Ha! _She's_ free to wipe her feet on the Oghren welcome mat of love anytime!" Drea rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help smiling to herself.

Finishing her water, Drea decided she would try getting more sleep, and Oghren didn't argue. With or without alcohol, the morning always came too soon and he was anxious to try and squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep. On her way back to her room, Drea heard murmurs coming from the study and noticed the door was widely propped open to get light from the hall. Approaching the room, she knew the first voice was Anders. "I swear her voice could tame the darkspawn themselves. And that honey hair to match…" he finished with a dreamy sigh.

Before the other person had a chance to reply, Drea stepped into the open doorway, "Do you really think this conversation is more important than getting sleep? We are heading out at dawn tomorrow - and that comes early."

Both men turned towards the door and she could see Anders was talking to a less-than-thrilled looking Nathaniel. "I had a dream," Nathaniel clarified. He glanced at Anders before adding, "I came to the study looking for a book to take my mind off it but…I think all this girlish chatter will get me back to sleep fine."

"Girlish chatter? Ouch," Anders exclaimed, giving Nathaniel a mock hurt look. "Appreciating astounding beauty is hardly girlish."

"Sounded girlish to me," Drea said evenly before adding, "You shouldn't get too attached to her Anders. She's apparently only here until she can get to Denerim, and we're investigating that road tomorrow."

With a disarming smile, Anders replied, "Then I'll have to give her other reasons to stay."

Not amused, Drea finally asked in a flat tone, "You realize she's likely a bard don't you? A spy?"

"No, she was very clear; she's a minstrel…she…why would you say that?" Anders asked in disjointed blurts. The light mood in the room died quickly with her accusations.

"You mean _other_ than her sudden appearance and suspiciously convenient story? How about the fact that she _was_ very clear that she's a minstrel? In a country where most people don't know there's a difference, I find that an odd thing to specify," Drea replied calmly.

"That's not fair," Anders answered defensively, "_She_ knew the difference…can you blame her for wanting to be clear on what she is? And we were the ones who suddenly appeared - she had been there for almost a year."

With an impatient click of her tongue, Drea asked, "And do you just believe anything a pretty face randomly tells you? Because when I spoke to the owner, he said she had been there for _significantly_ less than a year." Suddenly Anders looked like a kicked puppy as he fell silent. Feeling a twinge of pity, Drea added, "She might have just been desperate and exaggerated to gain your sympathy. I'm not saying she is definitely a spy. But you have to realize, we are in the heart of Howe territory. There is at least a handful of Rendon supporters who are very upset at everything they've lost because of me and who knows what they'll do. You have to watch yourself Anders." Drea noticed that Nathaniel didn't flinch at the mention of his family name.

Obviously disturbed by her suggestion, Anders pushed, "If you really thought she was a spy, why would you bring her here?"

Darkly, Drea laughed as she spread her hands, "What's she going to uncover? My life is public knowledge and all anyone has to do is take a stroll through the arling to see I'm barely holding _that_ together. And while she's wasting her time digging for fabled dirt, I at least get to enjoy some music. It's one of my favourite luxuries, I have to admit."

"I see," Anders replied quietly. "Well…if you'll both excuse me, I think I'll go to bed now." Her indifference to having an enemy around was as unsettling as the thought that Ashlyn could be that enemy. Without making eye contact, Anders walked past Drea and left the study. She wanted to offer words of comfort, but there was nothing to say. Conspiracies against her could mean a threat against all of her recruits and naivety could be their undoing.

"Going to bed is a good idea," she agreed, directing her comment to Nathaniel once Anders was gone.

Nathaniel nodded and started moving towards the door, "Yes. But…" Nathaniel hesitated and stopped. Drea raised a questioning eyebrow and he finished, "Do the nightmares ever stop, or is that why you're up?

"They don't truly stop, but they get easier to control. I had bad dreams tonight, but they weren't of the taint," she replied but paused, reconsidering. Doubtfully she added, "Well, maybe." Nathaniel watched her closely but didn't interrupt. An unconscious shiver ran through her and she tightly crossed her arms before finally admitting, "Broodmothers get to me. It's horrifying knowing they were once innocent women - someone's daughter or wife…I can't imagine a worse fate. I actually had one of my former companions swear to kill me if it came to that…"

"I could swear that oath for you," he offered without a hint of a smile. He was serious.

Drea snorted lightly, "Sure, why not bring joy to someone with my final moments on Thedas?"

Nathaniel smiled at her joke, but it faded. "Commander, I think I owe you an apology. Or several…" As he spoke, he wandered back to the desk in the study where he had first been when she arrived. The glow from the lantern dimly lit his features, giving him a slightly menacing look as he leaned against the desk. With a deep sigh, he continued, "My sister had many things to tell me about Father, none of it was easy to hear. I missed so much while I was gone." Absently, he tapped his fingers along the desk before suddenly folding his arms against his chest. After a brief pause, he added, "Delilah is actually grateful to you, if you can believe that. She said you were the only one to bring our father to justice and stop him from doing more damage to Ferelden and our name. Although, after what she told me, I'm not sure what more he could have done to the Howe name."

Drea stepped in from the doorway and Arkon sat at attention beside her. Shrugging her shoulders, she replied, "For what it's worth, we should just call it even. I owe you an apology too - I said I could see past your name. But I think it's pretty obvious that having a Howe in my charge isn't something I can deal with graciously."

Without hesitation, Nathaniel offered, "Then don't think of me as a Howe - call me Nate, like my sister does. Maker knows I don't even want to think of myself as a Howe..."

After studying him for a moment, she could see he meant it. "Nate," she started slowly, using his preferred name, "You should be trying to restore your name, not deny it."

"I know. And I will. But for now…for now just call me Nate," he repeated. Drea noticed his shoulders begin to droop and he looked away. "I just have to distance myself from this right now - it's too much to think on. I _worshiped_ that man…and it turns out I didn't even know him."

Silently she cursed to herself. She had understood the wisdom in her brother's words months ago in Denerim, but never expected to have to repeat them. Especially not regarding the loathsome Rendon Howe. Briefly, she looked up at the ceiling, searching for the strength not to retch at the thought of even remotely defending him. "I can't believe I'm about to say this but…you _did_ know your father." Slowly, Nathaniel turned back his attention to Drea, and even in the dim light, she could see him frown in confusion. Forcing herself to continue, she added, "People of importance have a tremendous amount of pressure on them. Eventually, it corrupts their hearts and minds. Ideas and motivations get twisted and they end up doing things no one would have expected…things they themselves never would have expected."

Taking a moment, Nathaniel considered her words. Finally, he shook his head and argued, "There have been great leaders who have never done terrible things."

"True," she agreed, "But you can be sure their vices grew in other ways that were easier to hide or ignore. You simply can't live such a life without being affected _somehow_." As she spoke, she dropped her hand to rest on Arkon's head, searching for a bit of comfort. With the same words she was using to explain men that sickened her, she was grimly hinting at her own fate. Refusing to voice that connection, she finished, "Whatever these people have done, it doesn't take away what they once were. We all live on in the memories of those who loved us, so I think it's especially important for the loved ones of fallen leaders and heroes to remember who they once were."

Part of her was disgusted at the words of encouragement coming from her mouth. It was impossible for her to imagine Rendon being anything other than a snake and didn't deserve to be remembered as a good man…even by one person. But the other part of her started to pity his relatives that had nothing to do with his actions. He managed to destroy a family that was loyal to Ferelden for thirteen generations. Even after his death he still managed to sink lower in her eyes.

The small trace of hurt that crept into Nathaniel's eyes told Drea she had struck a deep cord. He wasn't sure which was more awful to believe – his father was secretly always a bad man, or was once good and lost himself. Even as those thoughts plagued his mind, he still picked up on the fact she was damning herself with her own argument, "But you're a hero, a person of importance, can you really believe that?"

Drea straightened up and pulled her robe tighter, suddenly feeling the chill in the air. "I'm a fighter. We'll see what happens once there's nothing left to fight," she replied briskly, cryptically ending the conversation. "But _you_ have a lot of work ahead of you. I believe being a Grey Warden right now puts you in the best position among your relatives to restore the Howe name. And if you can change my opinion of your name, you can change the opinion of Ferelden."

Finally, Nathaniel rose to his feet and grabbed the lantern he had brought into the study as he prepared to leave. Knowing neither of them could handle the topic any longer, he lightly asked, "So…you're saying I've changed your opinion?"

Relieved at ending the conversation, she replied with a faint smirk, "I'm saying you have a _lot_ of work ahead of you."


	10. Rust Coloured Sorrow

_Author's Note: This chapter was difficult for me and probably went through the most rewrites, so I hope the end result is still okay. And I took some liberties with the Keeper abilities but..shhhh :)_

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**~Rust Coloured Sorrow~**

As Drea slowly roused back into consciousness, she became aware of how cold she was. She shivered violently as the chill in the air descended on her. Carefully opening her eyes, she glanced down at herself to see she had been stripped of everything and had only her under clothes for any modesty. Not sure if she was in danger, she kept still as she tried to look at her surroundings. She was in a small, dank cell and her companions were huddled near her, also with very little clothing. Even Velanna, the elf responsible for terrorizing Pilgrim's Path, was with them. From what she could see in the dimly lit dungeon area, they were alone.

With a groan, she pushed herself into a sitting position, and before the others could speak, she sighed, "Well, I wish I could say this was the first time I've woken up naked and behind bars." Getting to her feet, she brushed as much loose dirt off her body as she could. "Is everyone okay?"

Their subdued replies told her they were alright, but shaken. After another quick look around, she realized their numbers were short - the two mabari were missing. Looking at Nate, she could see the guilt on his face. Nara, Adria's mabari, had successfully imprinted herself to Nate and this was the first time he had taken her anywhere. Forcefully, Drea kept herself from thinking on the missing mabari - the possibilities sickened her. Following her lead, her companions rose to their feet as well. As they were dusting themselves off, Drea's mind ran through the last things she could remember, but it was still too muddled. Stretching her stiff muscles, she addressed the whole group, "We have to try and find a way out. Last time I was in a spot like this, I had a couple of friends come to get me, but I don't think we'll be so lucky this time…"

No sooner had the words come out of her mouth when the door to the dungeon area opened and a sickly looking elf came rushing in. "Seranni!" Velanna exclaimed, recognizing her sister.

"I'm here to get you out," Seranni hoarsely whispered as she pushed a key through the bars at her sister, "But you must hurry."

"Don't you mean _we_ must hurry?" Velanna asked, sharply picking up on what her sister hinted at.

Quickly, Seranni shook her head, "I must stay. Please Velanna, there's no time…I'll explain later." She quickly gave directions on how to get out of the mines, and thrust the key at Velanna. Before she could unlock the cell door and stop her sister from leaving, Seranni was gone.

Velanna tried to race after her but when she opened the door two hurlocks blocked her path. As she stumbled back, Anders hurled a bolt of energy from his fingers, knocking one off its feet. Velanna was able to scramble out of harm's way and gestured at the remaining hurlock. Suddenly, roots snaked up from the ground to close in over its feet, trapping it where it stood. Nathaniel used the distraction to dash across the room to the collection of rusty weapons carelessly tossed in the corner. Finding a dagger, he threw it with deadly accuracy, sinking it into the creature's forehead. With a loud grunt, it fell backwards, awkwardly landing in the dirt with its feet still held firmly to the ground.

Immediately, Drea promised they would try to help Velanna find her sister, and she agreed to join them - at least until they were out of the mines. Together they searched the area and found all of their gear nearby and, after rushing to redress, they were completely prepared when the next set of guards came along on their rotation. The battles were short as they outnumbered the pairs of guards they came across, and the fights were a welcomed distraction from the other horrors they encountered. Each room was another set of questions - more talking darkspawn, bodies of Orlesians, and strange artifacts. One such artifact was a staff that Drea wordlessly secured to her back. Her recruits knew that normally she cared little for such things, but no one dared to ask - they just carried on to the next bloody battle. As they finally felt the incline under their feet, Drea was stricken with the realization that they were nearing the end, and even after searching all the rooms along the way, there was no sign of Arkon or Nara.

Pushing their way into another room, they were surrounded by darkspawn staring down at them from walkways several feet above them. Among them was the darkspawn that called itself the Architect and Drea realized she had seen it when she woke earlier. As with the thoughts of her dog, she pushed that memory aside - one thing at a time. Beside the Architect stood Seranni and an unknown dwarf who looked as ill as the elf. Proudly, the Architect proclaimed it was ushering in a new era for the darkspawn by freeing its brothers and the ladies with it claimed they were volunteers for the cause. Asking questions proved to be useless as the conversation began to go in circles with the Architect refusing to provide details of its work. Drea was not even able to get a straight answer regarding the mabari. Velanna finally lost her patience and tried to scale the walls to reach her sister and the room suddenly filled with darkspawn to stop her. All the group could focus on fighting their way out.

Forcing their way out of that room, they ended up in a tunnel with a sharp incline. Scrambling up it, they were abruptly greeted by the bright sun and found themselves outside. To their surprise, no darkspawn followed. After walking a few paces from the exit, Drea's mind kept repeating the Architect's words when she asked where the mabari were… _The dogs? I had no use for them._ The creature was so vague, but the hard expression on its face made her heart sink. Finally, she stopped suddenly, forcing the others to do the same. Turning to Velanna, she quietly asked, "Do you know where we are? Can you take us to the entrance?"

"I know where we are," she replied, "Are you sure that's wise?"

"The mabari might be there. We have to try," Drea was too disconnected from the situation to even be irritated at her judgment being called into question. Velanna nodded and started leading them to entrance they had originally found. The walk was relatively short, the exit not being as far away as Drea expected.

As they made their way down the steep path towards the mine entrance, Drea looked over the side of the raised path and saw two mounds a short distance away. They were dark in colour, almost blending with the dirt, only she could see a gleam reflecting in the sun. Before she understood why, her blood ran cold and she started in a dead run from the group.

As they started instinctively chasing after her, they saw what caught her attention. Getting closer, it was obvious she spotted the two war hounds…both bloody and unmoving…

"_Arkon_," Drea screamed as she drew near. One mound stirred and struggled to raise its head. It was Nara. Arkon didn't move. She stopped short at the mounds and heard Nara's strained panting, but nothing else. Sinking to her knees, her hands were outstretched to touch her beloved friend, but hovered above him. She couldn't see a spot safe to touch; it was a mess of blood, dirt, and fur. Realizing that he was pointing away from Nara, she scrambled over to his face and dropped onto her stomach. With her face in front of his, she could see his eyes were closed. "Arkon?" she asked again, her voice trembling. Nothing.

The others saw her lying nose to nose with her unmoving dog as they approached. Time seemed to slow down as her face crumpled in pain and her jaw clenched tightly. "No," she cried at her lifeless friend, "_It can't end like this_." Angrily she slapped her hand loudly against the hard ground by Arkon's nose. Her vision was blurred, distorted by her tears. She continued to smack on the ground trying to rouse him but afraid to touch him, "_Arky_…_please_…"

Finally, she saw his eyelids flicker. Slowly his eyes opened and rolled forward as he tried to focus on Drea. A sob escaped Drea's throat as Arkon's tongue lolled out past his lips, trying to lick her hand. His tail only twitched against the ground when he tried to wag it. As his eyes became more focused, his pain filled whimpers started. Tears rolled down Drea's cheeks as she rubbed her hand against his nose trying to comfort him. "Anders…please," she begged, "_Do something_."

The surreal scene had cast a spell on the group, but her pleas snapped them into reality. "Heal…dogs?" he asked, uncertain. Nate, Sigrun, and even Oghren turned to shoot Anders a glare while Drea focused on Arkon. "Won't be much different than anyone else," he finished hastily.

"I'll help with this one," Velanna offered briskly, gesturing to Nara. Without hesitation she moved over to Nara and started to build up energy within her hands. "They are your friends, not your pets. I can respect that," she added a formal tone. Anders moved over to Arkon and started focusing, trying to block out his pained cries.

Anders fell into intense concentration as it took all his willpower to make any noticeable improvement to the dying mabari. Eventually, Akron quieted and his breathing was more regular while he helplessly stared at Drea. Remaining on her stomach, Drea looked deeply into Arkon's brown eyes as her face hardened against the tears she had shed. Her cheeks were flushed from emotion – hurt, anger, and shame.

After several tense moments, Velanna looked over at the others. "This one has a dark feel I can't really describe."

"The taint. She put up a fight," Drea replied in a subdued monotone voice, finally looking up at her companions. "Just stabilize her. On the way back from the exit, I saw a grove of plants that looked out of place, but I'm sure among them was the Wilds Flower…Sigrun, they are the white ones with the dark red centre that smell very sweet. I need you to go back there and grab as many as you can carry. I can use those to make a mixture to help Nara." Looking to Oghren and Nate, she continued, "And I need you both to salvage a couple of carts on the path. We need them to get these guys home." The three dispersed quickly to complete their tasks while Drea numbly turned back to Arkon. The healers continued to cast.

Once Nate and Oghren returned with carts, they took care with moving the dogs in preparation for travel. Each of the men ended up with arms and chests smeared with dirt and blood, but no one complained. It did not take long for Drea to mix together a few ingredients for Nara, but it was hard to tell if it was making a difference as she continued to lie quietly. Moving from Nara to Arkon, Drea gently rubbed his nose and stared down at him with concern as he weakly sighed. Her companions were ready to move out when she glanced from her mabari to the mine entrance over her shoulder. A dark expression crossed her face as she turned to face the entrance, and her recruits paused out of confusion. Taking a couple steps towards the entrance, she suddenly shouted, "You're dead Architect!" Bending down to scoop up a rock, she heaved it towards the entrance and it cracked against its mark. "_Dead_!" she repeated at the top of her lungs. Everyone held their breath, half expecting darkspawn to swarm like ants from an anthill. There was nothing. Fighting off her foolish urge to charge back into the mines, Drea forced herself to leave.

Oghren insisted on hauling Arkon on his own while Nate and Anders took turns hauling Nara. Coming across a tiny stream, they stopped for a break and carefully helped the dogs from the carts. After they refilled their flasks, the dogs limped over for a drink. That small gesture wore them both down, and they flopped down onto the sand. Drea pulled a few bandages from her sack and silently handed one to Nate as she strode over to Arkon. Settling beside him on her knees, she wet her bandage and gingerly started to clean him. His flesh was still tender, but he remained quiet as she laboured to find fur under the mess. The exhaustion was in Arkon's eyes as he stared up at Drea who kept intensely focused on each stroke of the cloth. The rusty looking water ran off him and soaked into the sand, but even that was something Drea couldn't acknowledge.

Nate moved to Nara to clean her as well when Velanna grabbed the cloth from him and pointed towards the stream. A few paces away, Anders and Oghren were trying to clean their armour with Sigrun's help. Without waiting for his reply, Velanna sat next to Nara and began cleaning her so reluctantly Nate joined the others by the water. Drea had not ordered them into silence, but the mood was too ominous for any of them to break. Eventually, the group secured the cleaner mabari in their carts and carried on.

It was an eerily quiet walk, closer resembling a bleak processional rather than a victorious return. With their quickened pace, the journey back to the Vigil was made in good time.

As they arrived at the outer gates of the Vigil they were greeted by Seneschal Varel and several guards. With no preamble, Varel explained, "When the lookout spotted the carts, we came to see if you needed help."

Everyone slowed to a stop before Varel and his men. Everyone, except Drea. Without greeting anyone, she side stepped Varel and marched past the rest of the guards. He started to question her when he noticed it was the mabari in the cart and wisely closed his mouth. It was Anders who quickly spoke, "Someone needs to go talk to her."

"I'll go," Nate replied, already turning to leave.

"Oh, just what she needs - a Howe in her face. That'll calm her down," Anders blurted. His fatigue was written on his pale face, as was his disapproval.

"Well one way or the other, she'll probably throw things," Nate acknowledged, "at least she won't feel guilty throwing them at me."

"I've known her the longest," Oghren huffed, "I'll go."

Anders turned to the dwarf and let out an arrogant laugh, "Why? So you can go call her a nug humping sissy?"

Insulted, Oghren's face flamed as red as his hair. "Watch it _boy_," he growled dangerously. "I will not be spoken down to by some sparklefingers!"

Before Anders could make a comment on the dwarf's height, Nate impatiently spoke over them, "_Enough_. I'm going - I can't make sure the dogs are alright like you can Anders. Please, get them to the kennels." Finally, Anders relented to the look of deep concern in Nate's eyes.

Drea was in her study by the time Nate found her. She was facing away from the door, but by the motion of her arms, he could see she was busy grinding more of the mixture for Nara.

"What…are you doing?" he asked carefully. Only a brief pause in her grinding told him that she heard, but she never acknowledged him. With slow, deliberate steps, Nate crossed the floor and came up to the side of her. He could see that she was staring straight ahead with tears welled in her eyes. Pausing for a long moment, he was unsure how to continue. Her knuckles were white from her tight grip on her stone mortar and pestle. Quietly, he prodded, "He's okay, you know."

"_Don't,_" her lips curled back as she forced the word through her gritted teeth. Desperately, she kept staring at nothing, refusing to look at Nate as she continued to grind. He kept watching her, and finally she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Stop giving me that look. I'm trying not to fall down here…I have no time. I've got to make more mixture for Nara because I don't know if that was enough to turn the tide. I have to honour Velanna's request so I need to prepare for the Joining tonight. I have to talk with Sigrun and Oghren about taking Dworkin back to that entrance to blow it up to the Maker himself. And I have to look into this," she gestured to the staff that was resting on the chair by the table. Her tone was hard, but that failed to hide the distinct waver.

Refusing to allow her to blur the point, Nate cautiously replied, "It's about more than just Arkon….I know Nara wasn't my mabari, but Adria was like a mother to me and Nara loved us kids as fiercely as she did. I grew up with them both caring for me. That dog is one of the last ties I have to that time of my life now and the thought of losing her…it makes me feel like I'm losing everything." Clenching her jaw, she continued to face wall and grind at what was already a fine powder. "And, he _is_ your best friend. It's okay to be upset."

"_Upset_?" she snapped, spinning towards Nate. "Am I upset Nate? Or is this the way the world ends?" Slapping the grinder into the bowl, her voice began to rise as she spoke, "I thought I had seen the worst during the Blight, but it doesn't even compare. Those darkspawn not only talk, but were smart enough to frame a group of humans with Seranni's disappearance, tricking Velanna into declaring a one-woman war against all humankind. Do you know how frightening it is to think they can be that calculating? And I don't even know if the location was a coincidence or if they're trying to cut of us off from the rest of Ferelden. And what about this Architect 'freeing' his fellow darkspawn and starting some war in _my_ arling? I can't even sit back and let them wipe each other out because they keep dragging us into it either attacking innocent people or targeting Wardens. I mean, they ambushed and kidnapped an _entire unit _of Orlesian Wardens for…experiments? I don't even know if they died or if I abandoned them to their fate. And us! They experimented _on us_, and I don't even know if they took something out or put something in!" Not giving Nate a chance to interject, she was almost yelling.

Abruptly she stopped as she covered her face with her one free hand. Instinctively, Nate reached over to squeeze her shoulder in support. Flinching, she twisted out of his grasp. "Don't touch me! Mabari die," she growled, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to keep it together. "They are _war_ _hounds_. They die in battle, they die from infection, or from the taint, or they just die from old age. But they_ die_. They die and they leave. _I know that_. Everything is falling apart, and I don't have time to worry about a dying mabari." Her voice cracked and she had to hold her breath to keep in a cry.

Softly, Nate replied, "But he's _not_ dying…"

"_Dammit Nate! What do you want from me_?" she screamed as she violently hurled the mortar and pestle across the room causing Nate to jump. The white powder exploded in the air as her tools crashed into the wall, leaving a large dent, before clanging onto the stone floor. The emptied mortar rolled on its side, amazingly still in one piece. Drea pulled a chair under her as she felt her knees finally buckle. Angrily shoving the remaining bundle of flowers to the floor, she hunched over the table, burying her face in her arms and finally broke down.

As she shuddered from her muffled cries, Nate moved closer and carefully rested his hand on her shoulder again. This time, she let him.


	11. Shifting Sands

_Author's Note: I'm pretty stoked because the next chapter I get to move past the game and character intro into MY actual story ideas. Thanks for sticking with me this far :D_

* * *

**~Shifting Sands~**

The main hall of the Vigil should have been warm and muggy that day with all the extra people, but yet the air was somehow still crisp. Unlike when entertaining the noble families following the Fealty Oaths, no extra adornments were decorating the hall. Even bare of frivolous embellishments, the room felt rich and respectable with a clear message - it was a day of business. Many matters for court had piled up while Drea was away and she had no choice but to dedicate a day to resolving them. Along with the usual guards and recruits, the room was filled with people wishing to witness the proceedings.

Listening to Ser Derren and Lady Liza Packton explain why they believed a particular bridge belonged to them, Drea was just relieved the day was almost over. Sitting tall in her chair, she forced herself to listen to them both speak, although her mind was already made up. When introducing the case, Seneschal Varel let her know that it was Rendon Howe who promised Lady Liza, an avid Howe supporter, the bridge from Ser Derren's family. His name was all she needed to hear to know right from wrong but had to let them present their arguments anyhow. Ready to make her ruling, she drew herself up to her full height and in a clear voice stated, "Let me begin by saying that it will never be my intention to punish those who supported Rendon Howe. He was your Arl, so supporting him is an expectation. That being said however, because of his actions, Rendon has officially been deemed a traitor to Ferelden by the King. I will continue to judge on any case brought before me, but I do not make a habit of honouring the promises of a traitor. Ser Derren, the bridge will remain as part of your family's property." Instantly, the anger was visible on Lady Liza'sface as she glared up at the Arlessa. Before she could say anything, the guards quickly removed her from the main hall, needing to keep the proceedings moving.

Bringing an exhausted, bedraggled looking man forward, the final case began. Seneschal Varel explained how the man was caught stealing from one of her caravans. He pleaded for mercy as his family was starving, but even so, his actions were considered treasonous against the entire arling. For a long moment, Drea silently stared hard at the distraught man. He nervously wrung his hands as his gaze moved between Drea and a solemn woman among the observers, who was trying to comfort the child clinging to her. Finally, Drea rose to her feet, looking poised as ever. "It is no secret that the Arling of Amaranthine has been faced with many destructive challenges as of late. While I _am_ overcoming these, it will take some time for the relief to be felt. It is during this time of suffering that we must give to the arling, not take from it. The more we give, the more it can provide to us all in return."

Drea paused as she clasped her hands behind her back. With Akron rigidly standing beside the throne, her dark hair pulled into a severe bun, and her vivid noble robes, she was an intimidating sight. The woman with the child, presumably the man's wife, watched Drea with pleading eyes but Drea ignored her. Eventually, she continued, "This situation is particularly unfortunate. Had you stolen from anyone else, you would escape with a lashing. But I am not just anyone. And therefore your life is forfeit." The woman clutched the child for support as she almost fainted while the man helplessly watched. Quickly, Drea raised her hand to quiet the gasps in the hall so she could continue. "And with your forfeited life, you shall serve under Captain Garavel, earning a salary for your family."

The room fell into a surprised silence, and hesitantly the man looked up at Drea, unsure he heard correctly. In a stern voice, she finished, "To better protect our food producing farms, we are in need of more soldiers. It better serves the arling to add to those numbers rather than hang a capable man."

Before the guards could usher him away, the man gratefully fell to his knees."Thank you! Thank you, I promise to make you proud." Drea nodded to him as she lowered herself back into her chair. As the guards directed him from the room, Seneschal Varel gestured to Ashlyn to close the court.

Drea had not been surprised when Ashlyn asked if she could stay even after the road to Denerim was clear. While Anders believed it was because of him, Drea became more suspicious of the woman even though her reasons sounded plausible. "_I know I said I would leave once I could get to Denerim_," she had started hesitantly, "_But…well I'm a minstrel and that's not exactly an honourable profession. Most people think we are more akin to thieves and scoundrels than respectable artists. But," _she had taken a deep breath and forced her fidgeting hands to stop before she finished, "_Being able to say I'm a Court Minstrel for the Commander of the Grey…the Arlessa of Amaranthine…there's honour in that. I think even my father could have been proud…"_

Glancing at Anders, Drea caught him staring at Ashlyn adoringly - her warnings of the bard already ignored. When Ashlyn struck the first cord on her lute, Drea couldn't help but look over at her too. Even in her simple dress, she was a remarkably beautiful woman with a smile both on her lips and in her eyes. As much as she didn't want to admit it, even through her increasing suspicions, Drea was reluctant to turn the woman away for many of her own selfish reasons. Her voice was raspier than Leliana's but when Drea looked away she could almost imagine she was in the room…

Nate happened to catch a glimpse of the subdued smile Drea allowed herself as she slowly closed her eyes. For a moment, as the minstrel's soothing music took over the emptying hall, he could believe she had a softer side. Her beauty had not been lost on him before but even as she wept upon returning from Pilgrim's Path, she retained a distinct hardness. Nate found himself captivated with her subtle dreamy look - a little hint of something more beneath the cold exterior. Realizing he was staring, he suddenly cleared his throat and forced his attention elsewhere, hoping no one noticed.

Evening seemed to come quickly, and it was in no time that Drea found herself facing the door of the large dining hall. The lavish private dining room meant for the Vigil's noble family had always gone unused by her and the only food she ate was what got brought to her study. However, since the trip to Pilgrim's Path, she found herself compelled to spend more time with her recruits. To her surprise, they witnessed a shameful moment of weakness but yet never flinched with their respect for her. She hesitated to try and bond with them as she had her companions during the Blight, but in the very least they had earned her time.

Still feeling awkward, Drea glanced down at her faithful mabari, deeply grateful he was at her side. Somehow knowing she was looking at him, he gazed up at her with his loving eyes. "_No more of this nonsense."_ Drea had said to him when he was well enough to leave the kennels. "_We are to die together. In battle. Gloriously!" _Happily, Arkon had barked in agreement. Taking a deep breath, she quietly asked, "Are you ready Ark?" As when leaving the kennels, he again barked happily in agreement.

With a quick scan over the room, she spotted a cozy looking Anders and Ashlyn chatting together as they sat alone at a table. The room was filled with guards on their breaks, but they sat at other tables which lined the hall. Although they all worked closely together, there was still a noticeable distinction between her recruits and Captain Garavel's men.

Ashlyn happened to look up as the Commander stepped into the room, holding her plate of food. Hastily, she dropped her hand from its resting spot on Anders' arm as she waved Drea over with a wide smile. As they approached, Arkon acknowledged Anders with a gentle head butt to his leg. Anders, appreciating that far more than the dead rabbit left in his room, patted the large dog on his way past to lie next to Drea's chair.

No sooner had she sat down when Nate, Sigrun, and Oghren made their way into the hall as Nara trailed after them. No one was surprised that Velanna was not in attendance. Although she had survived the Joining, she preferred to keep to herself…possibly still uncomfortable being surrounded by so many humans. Plunking himself into a chair, Oghren loudly asked, "Kind of public for a love fest isn't it?"

"If we need privacy, we'll find it," Anders snapped without thinking while Ashlyn nervously looked away.

"Between the sheets _is_ pretty sodding private," Oghren agreed as he laughed crudely and even Drea was stunned by his boldness.

"Oh shut up, Oghren," Sigrun jumped to their defense before Anders could reply. "Don't you remember what it was like to be in love?"

Ashlyn's cheeks flushed slightly and Anders' eyes widened at the word love, but neither of them spoke. Oghren, turning his attention to Sigrun, missed the subtle awkwardness. "Ha! Sure I do. Branka and I were like a pair of rutting brontos. Didn't matter who was around."

"And _there's_ a nice thought while I'm trying to eat," Nate muttered under his breath as he tried to focus on mixing his gravy into his potatoes. Nara softly sighed as she flopped down beside Nate, drawing a small smile from him.

"Well when _I_ was in love, we didn't much appreciate people prying into our business," Sigrun retorted. Oghren's eyebrows rose and Sigrun abruptly looked down to her plate.

Before Oghren could jump on it, Anders spoke up, "Do tell Sigrun. Seriously, give us reason to believe not all dwarves are as gross as Oghren."

Finally Sigrun laughed as she looked back up at the group. "There's not much to tell," she admitted with a smile, "We were young and naive, but it felt real. He was casteless, like me, so life wasn't easy. But none of that mattered when he was around…he was the only good part of my days. We had nothing to be happy about, but he still made me laugh like never before…or since." Slowly her smile faded as she added, "But he got mixed up with the Carta and…" she shrugged, not finishing her sentence.

"I had your caste system explained to me once," Ashlyn started slowly, gently changing the topic, "It's far more rigid than our classes up here, but similar idea. That's what destroyed my first love. He was a Bann's son and I was…well nothing really. Our relationship was completely unacceptable, so we kept it a secret. We were young and I suppose foolish to think it could work but we loved each other deeply. He had decided the only way we could be together was to run away and start a life where no one knew who he was. So we had planned to meet by the Chantry and leave under the cover of night. But he never came. Turns out we had not been as discrete as we thought and his father knew of our plan. Looking back, I believe I am lucky his father only convinced him to stay and didn't send a guard out for my head…" Ashlyn paused when she realized her story didn't help lighten the mood. "Well, one of us must have a happy story…Nathaniel?"

"I don't have a story," he shrugged as he looked up from his food.

"What, _no_ story?" Oghren asked, surprised. Of all the things Nate's demeanor conveyed, inexperience was not one of them. Not interested in being polite, Oghren continued, "At all? You mean you've never…wrangled a nug…mined for lyrium…rode the bucking bronto?"

Clicking his tongue in disgust, Nate replied, "Uh, none of those things. I _have_ had sex with a woman though, thank you. But the ladies were looking for a story of love and I don't have one of those. I was never in love with any of the women I've been with." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Nor they with me. It's just…there are certain expectations. So I'm afraid I'm not nearly as interesting as say…Anders?"

Shaking his head, Anders replied, "I'm not much more interesting. I mean I've got lots of stories filled with, what was it…lyrium mining? I was a mage at the Circle Tower soo…" he let that hang in the air, knowing it suggested promiscuity, "But actual _love_ stories? Not exactly."

Slowly Drea's mind wandered as the group spoke of love. For a moment, she could picture herself being back at camp as her companions finished their chores and started to rest for the evening. It was almost too easy to see Leliana watching her from across the campfire as the flickering flames lit up her face with a warm, inviting glow. Drea had longed to reach for her, but instead hugged her knees to her chest. Continuing to watch her, Leliana had smiled tenderly as she spoke, _"Drea, the Maker has big plans for you, you know." _With her smile turning wry, she added, _"So do you think you could stop being so sour for once?"_

Even as she sat in the dining hall, Leliana's teasing made Drea smile. Still only half paying attention to the conversation, she managed to hear Ashlyn softly ask, "What about you Commander? Do you have a story of love?"

As the memory faded, her heart ached for something that never truly was. Briefly, she had to wonder what dirt the shrewd bard was digging for this time but forced a sincere looking smile on her face. She was sure to choose her words carefully as she lightly replied, "And here I thought everyone had already heard my story." Her comment was greeted with a few nervous chuckles, knowing she was referring to the rumours about her and Alistair. Moving on, she added, "But I do have a story, just not about the one everyone is thinking of. It's true that I did love him, but there's only been one person who made me feel the way this one did. There was this trust between us, this…comfort. I shared things I've never expected to share with another and was still accepted. And it wasn't just the unconditional love that captured me - there was a spark. All it took was one look to steal the breath from my lungs, leaving me helpless against the enchantment. I don't know…maybe it's a red-head thing but there was an unmistakable passion in the smallest of gestures…"

She fell quiet for a moment, focusing on tearing at her piece of bread as she wondered why she shared that. Everyone always told her that getting things off her chest helped, but it she just felt awkward, and her heart still dully ached. While the others exchanged surprised looks at her rather poetic comments, Oghren's face turned to a look of confusion. Finally, he piped up, "Red hair? Do you…do you mean Leliana?"

Drea felt her stomach knot painfully as she realized she said too much. Desperate to deflect the question, she casually glanced at Oghren. Finally laughing, she ripped a small piece off her bread, and threw it at him, "Well if you think it was _that_ recent, why wouldn't I mean you, you big stud?"

Grabbing the bread that landed on the table after bouncing off his shoulder, he popped it into his mouth with a grin. Leaning back in his chair he laced his fingers behind his head and sighed, "True! There's a reason the ladies call me Oghren. Ahhhh…grin."

The recruits at the table couldn't help but laugh at the dwarf's comment, and even Drea pressed her fingers to her mouth, hiding her chuckle. It was an innocent moment, and Drea was relieved her cover was successful. Looking over, Anders exclaimed, "As I live and breathe! Is the Commander _actually_ laughing?"

Glaring at him, she drew her lips together, trying to suppress the smile. Speaking up, Nate replied, "Well maybe, until you ruined it Anders. Nice job."

Puffing out his chest, Anders started to defend himself when a breathless guard suddenly burst into the hall drawing the attention of those near the door. Slowly, a hush fell over the room, and finally they could hear his shouts.

Food, stories, and laughter were quickly forgotten as everyone scrambled to their feet once his words rang clearly through the room, "Commander! We're under attack! The city is under attack!"


	12. The Past Has a Way

_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has recently joined or has been reading my story all along - I appreciate the company :) And I'm really excited because this is the first chapter where I am introducing MY plot!_ Hope you enjoy

**~The Past Has a Way~**

Silently, Drea glanced at the advisors around the table - Seneschal Varel, Mistress Woolsey, and Captain Garavel. It had been three weeks since the guard had shouted the horrible news that the city was under attack, and they were only just at the point where they could again sit in the same room. Clearing her throat, she started, "So again we find ourselves in the position of having to rebuild."

"With funds from a treasury that wasn't full the first time and hasn't been replenished since," Mistress Woolsey snipped in frustration.

"In fairness, Mistress Woolsey," Seneschal Varel rose his hand, "The damage from this attack was far less than from the attack when the Commander arrived, both to people and property." The woman could not argue, and pursed her lips together as the seneschal turned to Drea, "There was one minor wall collapse and a handful of small breaches - all of which were contained quickly. It was a full week we spent under siege from the darkspawn and we did not fall…truly it's the stuff legends are made of. Frankly, I think Voldrik deserves a medal for the wall he built around the Vigil."

"I agree," Drea quickly responded, "He does deserve special recognition. Unfortunately, the damage to Amaranthine was more extensive, especially to the population. As with the first attack on the Vigil, they came into the city through a couple of cellars that they dug into from the Deep Roads. Structurally, there is not much damage to the city walls nor to _most_ of the buildings. But with what repairs are needed, even with the way to Denerim open, it will take a long time. The only way to hurry the repairs is to encourage trade through the port - which had already begun with the temporary halting of trade through Pilgrim's Path. Once we have seen ourselves through this tragedy, we can secure our economy in a way this arling has never seen before if the people embrace foreign trade."

Mistress Woolsey nodded as she glanced at the others. "I completely agree. We are a more convenient port for the other countries than Denerim is, so if during and after this we can prove to be a port worth selling at, we will see more of the profit stay in the arling."

Captain Garavel spoke up, "This is all well and good, but is the arling even safe? The attacks have gone from bad to utterly catastrophic. Before we can even think about trying to become an ambassador city, we have to be sure we aren't just one big death trap."

Slowly, everyone turned to Drea, looking to the Commander of the Grey for answers. With her elbows on the table, she clasped her hands together and thoughtfully replied, "I believe we are safe. We have destroyed the Mother."

"Pardon my saying Commander, but that's not too reassuring. The Mother? Who even is she?" the captain asked bluntly.

"_It_, Captain Garavel, was the more aggressive of the two darkspawn leaders," Drea replied in a cold tone. Looking at the blank expressions staring back at her, she knew she had to explain herself. With a sigh, she started, fully knowing it sounded insane, "As you already know some darkspawn talk and can think for themselves. They had split into two warring factions. One group is led by the Architect who was the first darkspawn to gain this conscious awareness and found a way to share this with its kin. The other was led by the Mother who was upset at this conscious thought because it is only achieved through severing the mental connection with the remaining archdemons. The attacks on the farms, the city, and the Vigil were orchestrated by the Mother in an attempt to enrage us into coming down on the Architect's head, knowing it was only the Architect's existence we were aware of. While the Architect was responsible for the initial attack on the Vigil and the trouble on Pilgrim's Path, it was to specifically target Wardens. It seems the key to their sentient awareness somehow lies in our blood although I'm not too clear on that...But it is aware that we know its plans and has been driven underground. I am confident that if there are any further attacks, it will not be from the Architect, or any other sentient darkspawn."

Although neither spoke, it was obvious that the men of the room were taken aback by the rush of bizarre information. However, Mistress Woolsey did not bat an eye at the impossible sounding story, which was more a comment on her experiences than confidence in Drea as she pressed, "And how exactly did you find out about the Mother? Is that why you do not plan on going after the Architect? "

Stiffly, Drea answered, "As you suspect, it was through the Architect that we learned of the Mother. But, with all due respect, I will be sending a full report back to _Weisshaupt_ and the First Warden can decide and pursue the best course of action. I will _not_ waste what few resources I have on a hunt through the Deep Roads - a place where even a semi-intelligent creature cannot be found if it does not wish to. You can trust me when I say that I am not pleased in the least to have any of these self aware darkspawn still living. But if the Architect is even still in Ferelden, the only way I will see it again is if it presents itself to me which it knows would be suicide."

Mistress Woolsey was not happy to be rebuffed, but held her tongue. Noticing Garavel and Varel had fallen silent too, Drea turned to address them, "I do realize I have dropped quite an incredible story on you all today. I have seen this with my own eyes, but even so, it still sounds far fetched when I speak it out loud. Unfortunately I cannot give you time to digest it right now as I do have another group I need to speak with today. I must insist that we continue with the specific damage reports we have to date."

Her words snapped them back into the conversation and their disciplined minds pushed her disclosure to the side. There was little doubt, however, that her story would be the prime topic of discussion in the evening. The rest of the meeting was mundane, filled with the bits of information they had on the state of the arling. As it drew to a close and everyone was dismissed, Seneschal Varel held back to have a moment alone with the Commander. "Now, it may be nothing but…" he started in a hushed voice, forcing Drea to lean in to catch all his words, "But I thought you should know…that minstrel you hired? Miss Ashlyn? It seems she's more interested in combat than you'd expect from a musician. I did not see it myself, but a few of Captain Garavel's men reported that during one of the small breaches, they witnessed her taking up arms. They claim there was no mistaking the fact that she has had some strict formal training. It may be true and there may be nothing suspicious about it - the roads _can_ be a dangerous place. But like I said…I just thought you should be aware."

Folding her arms tightly across her chest, she sighed and gave a slow nod. "Thank you, I will look into that further. However…right now I need to speak with Anders and Ambassador Cera. Could you please have them sent to my study?"

Seneschal Varel nodded as he gave a bow and left the room. By the time her and Arkon made it to the study, they did not have long to wait before the two mages arrived. Part of Drea wished she had longer between meetings, but was also relieved - she was already nervous and did not need extra time to work herself up. With very little preamble, they were directed to spots at the round table in the centre of the room. Coming over from the desk by the far wall, Drea carried some covered contents that she set on the table before them. Not yet taking a seat, Drea started, "I want you both to know that I trust you each with my life. But it is important for you to understand that I consider what is beneath these cloths to be even more valuable than that. At some point, I may tell the others what is discussed here, but for now, there is not to even be a whisper of this meeting, understood?" Turning her glare directly to Anders, she added, "If I so much as suspect you've talked to the bard…"

"Then I would _expect_ you to kill me for that betrayal," he quickly supplied before she could finish, not even trying to crack a joke. It was evident that the events of the past few weeks had done much to tame his boyish sense of humour. The very grim tone of the meeting was set, and the gravity of her words was reflected on the faces of the mages.

Pulling the cloth from the first item, she saw a spark of recognition in Anders' eyes. "The staff from the mines at Pilgrim's Path," she agreed with his silent assessment as she took her seat. "I am clearly not a mage, and not educated in the least with such things. I think I might recognize it, but I don't know how likely that is. What I want to know is would something like this be from the Circle Tower?"

"Not bloody likely," Anders breathed, staring at the gnarled, menacing looking staff.

Darting her eyes to Anders and back to Drea, Cera quickly spoke up, "Unless perhaps it was in the relics room, no, this would not be something from the Circle Tower." Seeing the quizzical expression on Drea's face, Cera continued, "You see, the staves in use among the Circle of Magi are created by infusing lyrium in light pieces of metal that are forged to look alike. Along with our similar robes, it helps create a sense of unity among the mages. It also helps easily distinguish the level of study a mage is at - apprentices wear different robes and use different staves than a senior mage would. And, I'm not sure if it's one of the purposes, but it does help to identify a fellow Circle mage when outside of the Tower."

Anders couldn't hide his scowl as Cera spoke of the Circle, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Turning to Anders, Drea asked, "And so how does it work with apostates then? I don't imagine there's a need for a sense of unity…"

"Definitely not," he agreed. "The Circle make them sound like some holy artifact but truthfully, they aren't even a necessity; they just help to focus and enhance our own natural talents. Although I admit, when someone casts as often as I do, they're pretty important. Outside of the Circle it is difficult to obtain a full metal staff without drawing attention so, like this one, most apostates will attach lyruim-infused metal to the top of a wooden staff. The metal can be almost anything as can the wood, although lightweight driftwood is common. With these two pieces being made up of random things, the chances of coming across two similar apostate staves are incredibly unlikely. Commander…if you think you recognize this, I would say it's a good bet that you do."

Drea's heart sank with Anders' assessment. She was not surprised, but it was not what she was hoping to hear. "And…can you tell me if this is actually a staff used for magic or did I get confused by an elaborate walking stick or something?"

"Oh, it's for magic," Cera replied without hesitation.

"Coward," Anders snorted at Cera as he reached for the staff. Carefully, he picked it up off the table and held it in both his hands. He quietly gasped as a visible shudder ran down his body. With a look of irritation, he gently laid the staff back onto the table. "Well that's…cold. Not cold but…" he struggled for the words as he drew his hands back. "Chilling…it almost feels like it's trying to pull the life right out of my bones. That's no walking stick Commander and to be honest, I'd hate the meet the person that would actually choose to cast with that."

"Very well then," Drea said as she tried to ignore the sinking feeling that took over her entire chest. Pulling the second cloth off the table she revealed a leather-bound tome and a pile of ragged looking runes. "These were recovered from the underground lair of the Mother - one of the talking darkspawn," she explained to Cera. "The lair itself struck me as odd. Both Oghren and Sigrun agreed it was not of dwarven make, but it appeared to be very old - ancient even. I found the book, opened to this page, in what looked like some sort of shrine, and it was half buried in rubble. It had caught my eye because it was the only thing free of the cobwebs that covered everything else. When I looked closer, I saw the debris was made up of these smashed runes and digging through, I found some stone runes in tact - all with similar, if not identical, symbols…Do these items mean anything to either of you?"

"I'm sorry Commander," Anders apologized, "I didn't recognize these even when we were in the lair. I can only agree that the structure was very old and the shrine appeared to be used recently."

Cera's attention seemed to be drawn to the book and slowly she pulled it towards her. Sharply she asked, "Why did this book catch your eye?"

"Something about it seemed familiar," Drea kept her answer vague, knowing Cera was about to tell her more things she didn't want to hear.

"It seems familiar to me too," Cera confirmed, "It reminds me of a tome that First Enchanter Irving had in his office." Carefully examining the page it was opened to, she added, "It's even encrypted the same."

Anders kept looking between the two women, but neither of them offered him an explanation. Sitting forward in her chair, Drea asked, "Can you translate it?"

Still looking at the page, Cera slowly shook her head. "I never got much time with the other tome. I…think I can possibly make out this one word though," Cera offered as she pointed to the word in question. Drea peered at it from across the table, waiting for her to continue. "It's uh…damage, or destroy…destruction maybe? It's hard to know exactly without knowing the rest but…"

"But I think that explains what happened to the runes," Drea finished as she looked from the book back to pile of stones. "It just gets better and better," she muttered as she picked one up, gently flipping it over in her palm. "And do they mean anything at all to you?"

Tearing her focus from the tome, Cera looked to the rune that Drea was pushing towards her. "I'm sorry Commander, they do not. They look very old and nothing like I've ever seen before."

Lost in thought, Drea leaned back in her chair and gently tapped her finger to her lip. Anders crossed his arms and shifted uncomfortably, frustrated he was unable to offer more while Cera returned to studying the book. Finally Drea broke the silence as she reached over and placed a rune in the centre of the tome, "Cera, I want you to take this with you and take some time to look through it. See if there is anything else you can translate from any of the pages. And see if, in any of your other books, you can find anything on these symbols. If there is still nothing, you have my permission to ask Velanna if she can shed any light. Thank you both for seeing me, I appreciate your help."

Realizing they had suddenly been dismissed, both mages rose from their chairs and Cera carefully gathered the tome in her arms. Leading the way, she was the first out of the room, anxious to spend more time with the book. Anders, however, hesitated in the doorway and let the door shut behind Cera. Turning back to Drea, he bluntly asked, "Why aren't you telling me everything? Have I done something to make you think I'm not trustworthy? Are you worried I'll talk to Ashlyn? Because I swear to you that wouldn't happen - even with my feelings for her, I understand the significance of Warden business…"

Waving him into silence, Drea shook her head. "Oh Anders," she sighed as she got to her feet, "I respect you…quite a lot, to be honest. I actually might even like you. You've proven yourself time and time again especially in these last difficult weeks. But," she paused for a moment as she looked into his eyes, trying to stress her sincerity, "It saddens me because I can already see the toll it's taking on your heart. You're getting this hardness to you…and you've only just started. I know it's inevitable…but..."

"Huh," Anders replied as a quiet spark of realization showed on his face. "You carry yourself with such severity…you've even got a cold glint permanently trapped in your eye. Despite what you want people to believe though, I'm starting to think that it's not the mark of the heartless. It's the mark of the haunted…isn't it?"

Drea held his gaze for a moment before turning away, slowly pacing from the table. "Since I was first drawn into these events I have seen things…learned things…_done_ things that still keep me up at night. Believe me when I say that if I choose not to share things with you, it's not out of mistrust. Ignorance is bliss, Anders." She paused as she turned back to face him, offering a regretful smile, "Unfortunately, the full wisdom of that statement is only understood after it is too late."

Anders slowly cast his eyes downward, her words ringing in his ears. With a nod, he finally stood and left the room.

As the door clicked closed behind him, Drea sank into her chair while keeping an eye on the staff. "I'm starting to think the joke is on us that we thought things were bad. The Architect, the Mother, the damned talking creatures…it's all nothing. We don't even know what trouble is yet, do we boy?" she sighed deeply, turning her attention back to Arkon who crossed the room and stood at her feet. Resting his head on her lap, he sighed with her.

"What I want to know is," she added as she gently pressed her tightly balled fist against her temple, "If this is indeed the same staff, how could it end up here…from the Wilds…_after_ I killed its owner?" Softly, Arkon whined in reply. "It could be looters," she suggested, "But then why would they have been in the mines or the lair? It just doesn't make sense."

She fell quiet for a moment as her mind raced in circles, getting nowhere. But even as none of the pieces fit, they all fell together. Since the end of the Blight, her days had been filled with forced, muddled steps, but suddenly her path was once again clearly laid out before her. The moment of clarity brought renewal and a sudden burst of energy. She pounded her fist against the table, loudly breaking the brief stillness. "But first things first," she said to Arkon as she abruptly stood up, "That bard has definitely been keeping things from us and I don't trust her one bit. We're going to be taking an extended trip, and I do not intent to leave my Vigil open to the likes of her. I just hope that Anders truly can understand the significance of Warden business…_"_

Quickly falling in line, Arkon easily kept up with her as she took long, confident strides down the hall towards the woman's room. Stopping at the partially opened door, it took only a quick glance to see Ashlyn was inside, with her back to the hallway. Drea's sharp eye narrowed in on the vials lined on up the table in front of her - vials that looked exactly like the poison Zevran had carried with him. Throwing the door open she demanded, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Commander," Ashlyn gasped, as she spun to face Drea. Her eyes were wide with shock, and Drea noticed the dagger in the bard's hand. Instinctively, adrenaline rushed through her body as Ashlyn flicked her wrist. The blade moved too quickly for Drea's eyes to track, but she could see the subtle glint from the metal as it sliced through the air. She couldn't move in time.

As she heard Arkon suddenly begin to snarl viciously behind her, she felt the cold steel sink into her flesh. Lurching from the impact, she dropped onto her knees - the momentary shock stopping her from feeling the pain…


	13. Can't Please Everyone

_Author's Note: I admit, the first move here is stolen from Fable 3...which has effing amazing combat moves. Plus it's a fun game :)_

~**Can't Please Everyone**~

Reaching to her sword, Drea cried out in pain. Quickly, she realized the blow came from behind and the knife in her back rendered her arm useless. Awkwardly, she spun around to see Arkon had one intruder down by his throat as a second intruder stared at Ashlyn's dagger in his chest. While he stood with his mouth hanging open in shock, a third attacker was rushing to pass him, heading towards Drea.

Springing into action, Ashlyn sprinted past Drea, towards the attacker with the knife in his chest. Jumping onto him, she braced her foot on his chest as she grabbed the dagger. In a fluid motion, she pushed off of him, smoothly ripping the knife from his flesh, and propelled herself at the man charging towards Drea. Stabbing her blade through his spine as she landed, he suddenly flopped forward and both men hit the ground in near perfect sync.

Drea stared in wide eyed shock, never seeing anything like that before in all her battle experience. Even Arkon grew still after he had dispatched his victim. Cleaning the blade on her cotton pants, leaving bright blood smears, Ashlyn approached Drea with a concerned expression on her face. Dozens of questions flew through Drea's mind as she stared up at the beautiful honey-haired woman who was suddenly less innocent looking. She could see now that Ashlyn's flowing dresses had left her looking small and petite, perfectly hiding her lean, taught muscles. Before her mind could start racing through all the implications, one thought quickly rose to the surface - the Vigil was not safe. Somewhere between a joke and statement of shock, Drea spoke, "Well after careful consideration, I've decided to trust you. Can you get this knife out of my back?"

Kneeling down beside her, Ashlyn took a look at the blade jutting out from the back of Drea's shoulder. Shaking her head, she replied, "It's a small dagger, but it is keeping the blood in. If I take it out you will faint from the sudden loss of blood pressure. It's best to leave it in for right now."

"But we're under attack," Drea argued, "I must to get to the main hall, but my off hand isn't _that_ great." She gestured to her main sword arm that was tightly curled against her chest. Every time she tried to even straighten it, the intense pain brought bursts of colour before her eyes.

"It's alright, I've got you Commander," Ashlyn assured as she carefully helped Drea to her feet, not willing to bend on her refusal to remove the dagger. After grabbing a sword from beside her mattress, Ashlyn followed closely behind Drea as she hurried towards the hall.

She could hear the clanging of weapons as she approached the main hall. Pushing the door open, she saw the attack was smaller than she first thought, and the few guards that had been in the hall were quickly besting the intruders. Nate and Oghren were already in the room, fighting along side with the guards. Pushing ahead, Ashlyn took the lead and cut down anyone in the way as Drea kept moving to the front of the room. From the side doors, Anders and Sigrun arrived with more guards, and soon the attackers were overwhelmed.

With Arkon at her side and Ashlyn behind her, Drea looked over the room and realized she knew the intruders. The leader stood in the centre of the room, not held by a guard, but frozen to her spot, knowing she lost. "Bann Esmerelle?" The woman raised her chin defiantly and glared at her. Astonished, Drea sputtered, "You finally decide to lead a violent rebellion against me and…this is what you come up with? You choose a plan that only works if your forces outnumber ours? I open my doors to you - give you a room for the night for our meeting tomorrow and you don't even think to attack me in my sleep?"

"Are you really asking me to defend my strategy?" Bann Esmerelle asked sharply.

Drea blinked at her for a moment, silently agreeing that was a foolish thing to say. Suddenly feeling short of breath, she tried to fight off the faint feeling threatening to overwhelm her. Slowly, became aware that the back of her shirt was wet and realized her wound was bleeding. The blade had been worked slightly loose, causing a slow, steady loss of blood. In her brief fog, she felt a hand steadying her arm, and realized Ashlyn was holding her. Glaring, she wretched her arm free and steeled herself as best as she could against her blood loss. Running her tongue over her dry lips, she turned her attention back to Esmerelle. "You're right," she agreed before demanding, "Why?"

"Ha!" Bann Esmerelle shrieked, "Do you even have to ask? Do you really not understand how much you've cost me, you bitch?"

"You've cost us all!" another attacked piped in. Drea glanced at the other and recognized Lady Liza, the noble who lost her bid on Ser Derren's bridge.

"And lowering the tariffs on the port trade? You think I would just sit by and let you destroy everything I've worked for?" Esmerelle growled.

"You!" Nate exclaimed, forcing Esmerelle to turn, "You're working with the smugglers aren't you? You keep the tariffs too high for an honest port merchant to afford, and let the smugglers have free reign once they pay you a bribe."

"I've only ever followed through on arrangements your father made, Nathaniel," Bann Esmerelle's voice softened considerably as she addressed Nate.

"So is it because of one of his arrangements that your precious city is only ever one step away from squalor while you never seem to go wanting?" Nate pushed.

"You don't understand," she cried, "We all loved your father and he took care of us. He wanted the best for us all. And then she comes along and…" Bann Esmerelle chocked back her words when she saw the glare on Nate's face. Quickly changing her line of thought, she added, "We are here to stand for your father because he's not able to stand for himself. He was your _father_ Nathaniel…will you not help us?"

Angrily, Nate pointed to her with his sword as he shouted, "_You_ stand for your own greed! Don't you dare try to appeal to my sense of duty by him. I have no choice in the matter; I will forever be bound to him through name and blood but never through principles. He did horrible things. You had a choice in your loyalties, a choice to stand here today and you deserve everything you get."

"Nathaniel Howe," Bann Esmerelle's voice was shrill, "You were always his favourite. He sent you away with hopes that your time in the Free Marches would turn you into a man. But I see you're just the same sniveling whelp you were before. I never did get what he saw in you…"

"_Enough_," Drea's voice boomed through the room. With the dark shadows around her eyes and the colour draining from her face, she looked more menacing than weakened. "Captain Garavel, take them away."

"No," Nate stopped her, "Kill them."

"Why?" Drea narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, recalling their first conversation, "Because when something makes me angry, I kill it?"

"Because you kill when you have no other option. And Drea…" he paused when he realized he blurted out her name, but pushed on, "You have no other option. This will only end in the gallows, but if you do that, she'll turn more people on you."

"He's right," Ashlyn quickly agreed, speaking loudly from behind the Commander. "She'll have to be allowed her final words and will paint you as the villain and herself as the martyr of Amaranthine. Anyone who was on the fence about you will be swayed."

"But," Nate cut in, "If the usurpers die in battle, then you get to present this to the people your way."

Drea's eyes swept over the room. There was half a dozen upper class citizens and a few handfuls of their followers left standing. None begged for mercy, but she had to wonder how many were bravely not begging and how many feared Bann Esmerelle more. For a long moment, Drea remained still, weighing the words of Nate and the bard. No matter how she looked at it, they were right - if Esmerelle had a chance to speak, she'd be getting another knife in the back. Standing as tall as she could, she did not gesture for their deaths as expected, but rather turned to address the room. "It is with a heavy heart that I make this announcement," she spoke slowly, starting the speech she would give to those in the city, "Bann Esmerelle and her followers died last night when they attempted to violently take over Vigil's Keep…To me, this is one more heartbreak to add to the list of what we, as an arling, have suffered. She claimed to fight on Rendon Howe's behalf, believing she could lead this arling better. I can hardly blame her for this. Change in itself is difficult, but add to that the recent string of tragedies we have had to endure and it becomes almost unbearable. Esmerelle had a vision for this arling but, like Rendon Howe's vision, it was short sighted - born out of selfishness and greed."

Pausing for a moment, she let her words sink in. No one spoke and the air sat thick in the room. After taking a deep breath, she continued, "I too have a vision for this arling; for us to rise from the ashes of our hardships and become stronger than we have ever been. We _will_ become the strongest and greatest arling this country has ever seen. We _will_ be a leader for others to look to - an example for others to follow. _We are Fereldens_! This strength is in our blood! It is what courses through the veins of each of us. I still see the death of Esmerelle and her people as a senseless loss, but it's one we never have to repeat. Time and time again, to the amazement of other countries, Fereldens have clawed their way from the depths of despair to become something greater! We do this through unity with our fellow countrymen. All I ask is for you to stand with me. If we stand together…we…_will_…_not_…_fall_."

Drea was passionately shouting the end of her speech, but when she finished, the silence that followed was deafening. Finally, she glanced around the room at those within the grip of the guards. Some of their eyes reflected the terror in their hearts, knowing their death was on them. Others were still glaring with rage. The ones that hurt for Drea to look at, however, were the ones who stared up at her with regretful tears in their eyes. Her soft side started to stir, wanting to do the impossible and spare some of them from their fate. Even as she braced herself and pushed those thoughts away, a sick, hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. It was a familiar feeling - the one she got when she was about to do something that would forever haunt her. In her heart, she knew the faces turned to her would be added to the faces of the others that visited her each night.

Turning to Captain Garavel, she raised her chin slightly. He turned to his guards and gave a curt nod. Before the gasps could turn into screams, the guards quickly sliced the throat of the intruder they held. The room erupted into strained gargling noises as master and servant alike struggled for air that wouldn't come. Dark red blood slowly seeped from their necks, staining the crisp, clean armour that marked the noble class. As their bodies became limp, they slipped from the guards' hands and crumpled onto the floor.

As her fellow conspirators fell, Bann Esmerelle, who had not been held, suddenly lunged at Drea. Her arms were arms outstretched and her face twisted with rage as she let out a primal scream. Before the nearby guards could reach her, a dagger flew past Drea's shoulder into Esmerelle's throat, sending her sailing backwards onto the stone floor. Instantly, she clawed at the knife, but quickly her hands fell away as she died on the floor of the main hall.

Drawing her sword with her off-hand, Drea spun around and pressed the blade into Ashlyn's throat, "_Who are you_?"

Everyone in the room froze in shock at the Commander's sudden outburst. Their weapons were at the ready, but they remained still keeping a weary eye both on the bard and the dying nobles. Without flinching, the woman replied, "Ashlyn, my Lady."

Bringing her face closer to the bard's she demanded, "Who sent you?"

Finally, Ashlyn did flinch, "I am not permitted to say."

Pushing her sword harder against her throat, Drea shouted, "_Who sent you_?"

Ashlyn visibly stiffened, trying to relieve the pressure on her neck, "Your…your benefactor demanded to remain anonymous."

"Benefactor?" Drea snarled, "As if sending deception in my midst is a benefit to me? Why are you here?"

Ashlyn stopped looking at Drea and let her eyes focus on the far wall, trying to keep her composure as she repeated, "I am not permitted to say."

Roughly Drea shoved her with her forearm while still keeping the blade to her flesh, "_Why are you here_?" Ashlyn swallowed and clenched her jaw tightly, but remained silent. "Are you here to spy?" Drea pressed. The bard said nothing. "_To kill me_?"

Stifling a gasp, Ashlyn breathed, "_No_."

"_Then what_?" Drea shouted. Pausing for a second, she added, "To protect me?"

Ashlyn's eyes darted to Drea, meeting her intense stare for a moment before blinking and looking down, giving her answer away. "I…I'm not permitted to say," she mumbled.

"To protect me," Drea repeated, as she loosened the pressure of the sword to Ashlyn's throat. Both women were well aware that Drea was no match in her current state and yet Ashlyn made no move against her. She remained still even though, with her incredible speed, she would likely be able to escape the guards of the room. It suddenly seemed very plausible that she was sent as protection. Trying to work through the haze in her mind, Drea struggled to figure out who she knew that would want to send her a body guard…who would even have the resources…who would feel the need to do it in secret... "Alistair?" she finally asked.

Again, Ashlyn quickly glanced at Drea before she forced herself to look away again. "I cannot say," her voice was hardly above a whisper.

"_Was it the King_?" Drea yelled in frustration.

Ashlyn's eyebrows tightly knit together as she tried to stop from breaking down. Finally squeezing her eyes closed, she dropped the sword she had still been holding and it hit the ground with a loud clatter. "I will not bear arms against you, my Lady." As Ashlyn started to lean forward, Drea pulled her blade away. Lowering down to kneel before Drea, Ashlyn bowed her head as she added, "You may kill me if you wish, I will not stop you. But I cannot tell you who sent me."

As Ashlyn offered her life, Anders took a step towards the women when he felt a strong hand on his arm. Looking from the hand to its owner, he saw Nate holding him firmly, giving him a warning look. Steadying himself, Anders remained still.

Drea simply stared at the bard. It was either the best bluff in all the Thedas or she was sincere. "Right then. Looks like I'll be taking a side trip," Drea exhaled as she took a step back. At a loss, she finally shoved her sword onto a groove on the stone beneath her feet and used it brace herself as she turned to her recruits. "Now, can someone _please_ get this knife out of my back?"

Without looking at him, Anders jerked him arm away from Nate and rushed to Drea's side. Gently he put an arm around her waist and supported her good arm at the elbow. Looking behind them, he stared down at Ashlyn before finally asking, "Was any of it true then?"

Looking back up, she had tears in her eyes as she answered in an unsteady voice, "Every word of it Anders, I swear to you."

Not swayed, he coldly replied, "So you only lied to me through omission then."

Finally, the tears spilled onto her cheeks and she hastily bowed her head again, allowing her hair to cover her face.

"Take her away," Drea ordered Captain Garavel and gestured for Nate to come help. As Nate approached, she finished, "And if she resists…kill her."

As he carefully guided her from the room, Anders quietly asked, "What are we going to do with her?"

"I don't know," Drea admitted with a sigh as she looked over her shoulder at Ashlyn. Continuing to look down with her hair obscuring her face, she held her arms out towards the men and offered no resistance as they pulled her to her feet. "She saved my life though. That's got to count for something…"


	14. Life is Loose Ends

_Author's Note: Took some time off for Christmas, and after this I'm leaving on vacation for a bit so this will probably be my last chapter for a few weeks. But I'll be back with more adventure soon :D_

* * *

**~Life is Loose Ends~**

Even inside the Keep, the air was cool from the heavy rain outside. Having no time to relax near one of hearths for warmth, Drea was determined to tackle her day one issue at a time. Locating her first issue, she skipped the pleasantries.

"You plan to leave us," Drea stated, no hint of a question in her voice.

Looking up from the book she was reading, Velanna appeared only mildly surprised. Marking her place, she gently closed the book and clasped her hands over it. She remained silent as she looked up at Drea with patient expression. After a moment, Drea calmly continued, "If we were ever to find your sister, it would have been during the attack or in the broodmother's lair. Since we came up empty handed, the only hope you have now is to track her down on your own. I might be shemlen, but I'm not stupid,"

Velanna arched her eyebrow at Drea's use of the elven word for human but she did not comment on that. "And you are here to tell me you cannot allow that," she guessed in a brisk tone.

"I can't allow it," Drea agreed, "But I'm here to ask a favour of you." Again not replying, Velanna sat back in her chair to hear Drea's proposal. Entering the room, she pushed the door closed behind her to block out any listening ears. Leaning on the closed door, Drea explained, "I am going with the recruits to the Korcari Wilds. It's not to say that I think Anders is unable to tend to four Wardens and two hounds, but I have a feeling I will need all the able hands I can get."

Velanna eyed her suspiciously, "Is this all? A trip? Then you let me leave?"

Finally letting out a long breath of air, Drea crossed the room and took a seat across the table from Velanna. "This is no small thing I ask," she admitted. "Not only will the lengthy journey delay your own search, but it may be risky. I am starting to suspect that all this…the Blight, the talking darkspawn…is a result, or maybe even a smoke screen, of a larger evil. I hope to find some answers in the Wilds, but…I can't dismiss the possibility that I might actually find the larger evil. As for letting you leave however, the orderis not something that you can simply walk away from. But…while I could never _let_ you leave, there's not much I could do if you disappeared in the dead of night." She paused for a moment as she offered a small shrug, "I would, of course, immediately head up a search party and expect I would find evidence that you had taken to the Deep Roads. It would be better if there was evidence that you died there. This would all go into my reports to the First Warden at Weisshaupt, along with my suggestion than the ways of the Dalish make them somewhat unstable for this lifestyle and should only be recruited in extreme situations."

A slow smile emerged on Velanna's lips as she replied, "I agree to this request. I _had_ planned to disappear in the broodmother's lair after Seranni was no where to be found, but I couldn't. The Dalish are proud, driven by honour so to leave in such a way would have been an everlasting shame of mine. To offer you aid in return however, is far more acceptable."

With the unexpected ease of the conversation, it was not long before Drea was able to take her leave. As tolerant as Velanna was of her situation, she was still not overly comfortable having lengthy conversations with her human counterparts. Always having multiple demands on her time, Drea didn't mind. Her second issue was several rooms down the hall and she seriously doubted it would go as smoothly. Ashlyn had already been informed of Drea's decision to let her stay in her stripped room under the watch of two guards at all times. As meals would be brought to her, the only other place she would be permitted was the main hall should Seneschal Varel require a court minstrel. Even as Drea set up all these security measures, she knew they were not enough to truly imprison the bard. They were, however, a way for Ashlyn to prove her willingness to cooperate - a test she could not rise to if Drea kept her locked in a cell. Part of her doubted the bard would be at the Vigil upon her return.

As she approached the slightly open door, Drea nodded at the two guards standing watch. Reaching for the door, she paused when she heard Ashlyn speak, "Please Anders, you have to believe me."

"Oh I do, do I? You claimed that you didn't lie to me, but you have from the beginning. When we first met you were the _minstrel_ of that tavern for a _year_," Anders shot back.

"I…I _exaggerated_ the time. And technically I _am_ a minstrel…I just have other talents too," Ashlyn pleaded. Even from the hall, Drea could hear the desperation in the woman's voice. "I haven't lied to you. Anders, everything I've ever said, everything about us, about how I feel, it's all true. My time here is my own…I'm allowed to set up roots however I want…Anders, I just want to be with you…" her voice wavered until it finally cracked and a sob killed the last of her words.

With a hard scoff, Anders replied, "It's really hard for me to take your tears seriously when I know you could rip me to shreds before I could blink."

In an unsteady voice, Ashlyn whispered, "I would never…could never hurt you. Anders, I swear to you, to Andraste, to the _Maker himself_, no one at the Vigil will come to harm by my hand."

"Right," Anders finished for her, "That's not what you were sent here for. But you _were_ sent here, and I don't know how you expect me…or any of us…to trust you when you can't even tell us who sent you or why."

The room was silent for a moment, before Ashlyn quietly replied, "Then where does that leave us?"

Silence followed again until Anders answered her in an equally subdued tone, "I don't know."

Giving the guards another curt nod, Drea turned to leave. There was nothing more she could add to what Anders had to say…

Time seemed to speed up after her moment of eavesdropping. Although her speech in Amaranthine regarding Bann Esmerelle's death was the next day, it felt like it was only minutes later. When they arrived in the city, they posted several memorial lists of the fallen conspirators while Drea prepared. Taking Nate's advice, Drea delivered her speech from balcony of the Chantry so her voice could echo off the surrounding buildings and even those in the back could hear. Trying to repeat the spontaneous speech she gave in the main hall, she was gracious towards her betrayers and encouraged the rest of the people to join her in achieving her vision for the future. She also announced that the Chantry would be performing respectful services for each person that died. Even through her kind attitude towards her betrayers however, the underlying message clear…they were dead and crossing her had dark consequences. The crowd was understandably dazed by her announcement, but the murmurs were of shock at the Bann rather than the Arlessa. When Drea and the Wardens set out from the city, she knew she was leaving it in an awkward state as it was without a Bann. Seneschal Varel agreed to resolve the issue as he knew the people of the city the best and Drea knew the people would take comfort in him.

Pulling out her whet stone to start sharpening her blades, she tried to relax during their first evening at camp. Somehow, it was easier to let her stresses go when she was on the road. Sneaking glances at her companions, she was always impressed how the same light could cast such different moods on people. With the flames lighting his face, Oghren looked evil and fearsome even as he calmly drank from his flask. She was curious if all dwarves looked so ominous by firelight, but Sigrun was off tending to her tent. Meanwhile, Velanna's pointed features were even sharper, giving her an intelligent yet animalistic look. Anders just looked sickly and washed out - a comment more on his frame of mind than the fire's light. Finally moving her gaze to Nate, she was surprised to see the warm glow gave him a gentle, inviting look rather than the dark, angry look she was expecting. Drea couldn't help but watch as he tenderly cared for the fire, carefully poking at the stack of logs to help it burn better. Casually tracing her eyes from the stick, up his thick, muscular arm, she glanced back to his face only to realize he had been watching her. Even as she hastily dropped her gaze back down to her blade, she caught his smile.

Interrupting her quiet moment of embarrassment, Oghren grunted, "What's amatter boy? Still upset over that woman of yours?"

Glaring at the dwarf, Anders replied, "My woman? You mean that two-faced bitch that could kill me between breaths? Yeah. A little."

"Why?" Velanna asked in a sharp tone as her piercing stare bore through him from the other side of the fire pit, "You can't handle a strong woman?"

"Heh, yeah, I kind of like her now that she's got spunk," Oghren chuckled.

Not reacting to Oghren's prodding, Anders kept his eyes on Velanna as they exchanged an uncomfortable stare. Finally he replied to her, "I grew up in the Circle, which means that at any given point I was surrounded by women who could have blasted me into dust. I had no issue with that. My problem isn't with extraordinary women…" he paused briefly as he glanced away. Finishing lamely, he added, "It's with the lies."

Satisfied with that answer, Velanna turned her attention to the chunk of bread on the end of her stick. Working a second stick into the bread, she was able to easily warm it over the fire without losing it. After watching her expertly deal with her food, he focused on grabbing his own provisions from his sack until a sudden, insulted look crossed his face. "But…so what if that _was_ my problem?" he snapped. "Is there something wrong with ordinary women? Is there something wrong with wanting an ordinary life with one? Maybe on some ordinary farm?"

Glancing up at him, Velanna coolly replied, "For you there is. You'll never be able to have that, and it's wrong to waste your life in want."

Drea heard Anders snort loudly but as he opened his mouth to reply, she interrupted, "She's right." Clamping his mouth shut, he turned to Drea as she finally looked up from her blade. She and Wynne had shared similar conversations and she suddenly missed the white haired mage. No one could help her make sense of the world quite like she could, and as Drea looked at Anders, she knew he also could have benefited from those conversations. Stiffly, she continued, "Anders, the second your parents realized they had to send you to the Circle, your abnormal fate was sealed. And while you sit there wishing you were a simple farmer, the simple farmer wishes he was you - the heroic adventurer. So much of life's misery is caused by focusing on what we can't have…what we can't be, instead of looking at what we do have and accepting what we are. Both you and the farmer mope about your lot in life, and both of you miss out on the good things surrounding you - things that others envy."

"And who are you to lecture me on finding happiness, exactly?" Anders growled as he shoved his bread back into his bag. "I've only ever seen you in two modes - cold and angry. Do you even know what a smile is? You know, that thing people do with their mouths?"

"I suggest you hold your tongue Anders," Nate spoke before Drea could react. He straightened, pulling his shoulders back as he added. "And keep your tongue held until _you're_ the one single handedly rebuilding an order while bringing an entire arling back from the brink of its own destruction. You piss and moan about gallivanting with the wrong woman, but you don't even appreciate the fact that you had the _time_ to gallivant in the first place. And I have no sympathy for you on that front either Anders - Drea warned you about the bard and _you_ chose to ignore it."

Drea couldn't help but notice Nate's face turned from inviting to menacing as he defended her...and that for the second time, he called her by name.

Holding up his hand, Anders tried to wave Nate off, "Okay, you're right, I'm sorry. It's just that I don't see what's so wrong with wanting a bit of normalness in our lives. Are you telling me that the idea of lying down your troubles and coming home to a loving wife isn't the least bit appealing to you?"

"Did ever occur to you," Velanna cut in, "That part of leaving family and such attachments behind comes from the idea that Wardens are above that? Do people not see you as heroes? Giants among men? From what I understood, Grey Wardens are living myth and legend and relations with commoners will tarnish that."

"Yeah," Drea chuckled bitterly as she pocketed her whet stone and slid her sword into its sheath, "A real giant among men we are. There was a time where I would have agreed with that, but the people of this country turned on us so fast my head spun. The entire time leading up to the Blight the people we were trying to protect were the same people eager for our blood…or at least the bounty on our head. It definitely opened my eyes - the time of the mythical Grey Warden atop the majestic flying griffon is over and we can't keep riding the coattails of that image. We have to find our new, practical place in this world."

Catching the conversation as she joined from group, Sigrun asked, "So is that why, for the first time in history, Grey Wardens are being ordered into being openly involved in politics?" Drea gave a slow nod. Looking at the free spot by Oghren, she decided to sit on a stump near Velanna instead as she added, "Which is against the fundamental principles of the Warden Order. By leading an arling, the very definition of a Grey Warden is blurred." Again, Drea nodded. With a sigh, Sigrun finished, "I'd say frolicking with people outside of the order is the least of our concerns."

For a moment, the group fell silent as the others finally started to realize some of the uncertainties that they faced. Still tightly gripping his pack, Anders finally asked, "So does this mean we _could_ try to find a bit of normalness, since the lines are blurred anyhow? I mean, how fundamental are these principles if they can be set aside like this? " Having no answer, Drea silently spread her hands in reply. "Where does that leave us then?" he pushed.

An obscure smile spread on Drea's face as she replied, "It leaves us in the same place I always am…the place we will always be - focusing on the here and now, on the problem in front of us. Right now that problem is getting to the Wilds and back in one piece."

Rising to her feet, Drea brushed the dirt from her armour as she glanced at her companions. With a soft chuckle she added, "I can tell by your thrilled expressions that some of you don't think that's much of an answer. Maybe you're disappointed that your leader doesn't know everything. But that _is_ the only answer, and it's the only answer that will consistently be there. The world is complicated and no matter how hard you try, there will always be more questions. Sometimes, all you can do is simplify it for yourself. We are Grey Wardens. We kill darkspawn. The rest will get sorted as we go."

Leaving her recruits to think on her words, she strode towards her tent to rest so she could take the first watch. With the close of their first night, their journey was officially underway.


	15. Low Profile

Auth_or's Note: Having a bit of trouble getting back into the swing of things after my vacation! But it came together :)_

**~Low Profile~**

Dusk had settled over the city by the time Drea and Anders stepped out of the Wonders of Thedas. To Drea's dismay, Alistair was too busy with back to back appointments to meet with them once they arrived in Denerim. Greeting them instead was Eamon, who assured her he would be able to see her the following evening and immediately set the Wardens up with rooms in the Royal Palace. Having time to spare, the group decided to visit the market and meet at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. They had only been on the road for a few days, but it was enough to make them appreciate the comforts the city could offer. Velanna, however, was not thrilled with being in the city and chose to remain in her room.

As the shop door closed behind them, Anders idly asked, "So how upset are you that the King decided to travel around Ferelden?"

"The King is free to do as he pleases," she replied curtly as she started leading him towards one of the warehouses in the market. In truth, the news that Alistair went on to travel after stopping at the Vigil had infuriated her but she didn't want to admit it. "He wanted to see the status of his kingdom first hand; I think that interest is good in a leader. But I will admit that I'm a bit frustrated that his long absence has left him too busy to meet with me. Seeing as how he only returned last week after all those months, I suppose I should be grateful he is here to meet with us at all."

"You _know_ that's not what I meant," Anders sighed. "Those talking darkspawn posed a great threat to Wardens in particular and after you warned him, he decided to take a tour instead of getting back to safety. It must bother you. I mean it can't be that easy to stop caring can it?"

Drea would have been annoyed had the invasive questions come from anyone else, but after all his dedicated healing he had an advantage over the others. Unruffled, she answered, "I wouldn't say I've stopped caring. As tragic as it is that Eamon no longer has family to return to in Redcliff, I'm glad for Alistair's sake that he will remain as an advisor." Pausing briefly, she shrugged and added, "There are many different types of love Anders. Some types are just easier to be practical about, that's all."

"Practical…" he quietly echoed and fell silent.

For several moments, the only sound was the crunching of their boots on the gravel as they reached the door of the warehouse. Fluidly pulling a set of keys from her coin purse, she snuck in a sidelong glance at the mage. He was watching her hands, but she could see the dull light in his eyes. It had been less than a week since the discovery that Ashlyn was a bard and he was still struggling with it all. Turning her attention to the locked door, she continued, "Some loves, however, are impossible to be practical about. They happen suddenly and even if you know it can only end in tragedy, they change you." Her voice had grown noticeably softer as she finished, "And it doesn't matter if you find the strength to walk away because it will continue to be the source of every heartbeat and in the back of every thought. You can't beat yourself up for that…"

The door clicked loudly as the lock unlatched and Drea pushed the door open. Anders glanced around the random supplies in the large warehouse room, but didn't comment on what Drea had to say. Realizing that Drea was ignoring the room and making her way to the back, he quietly followed. Changing the topic, Anders spoke up, "So…you said that Arl Eamon has no family to return to...when I was still at the Circle, they brought a boy in - Connor. They kept the exact details quiet, but it did cause quite the uproar. The templars wanted him dead, saying he had been an abomination and while First Enchanter Irving demanded he live so his mother's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. In the end, they kept the boy under very close observation and the First Enchanter got his way. But…that was Eamon's boy, wasn't it?"

There was a slight hesitation in Drea's confident stride as the memories from her time at Redcliff flooded back. It was all too easy to picture Lady Isolde writhing in pain; blood flowing from her open veins as the blood mage fell into a deep trance. Giving a nod, she kept walking. "And you were there?" Anders guessed. Again, Drea nodded. "So you saw the sacrifice to the blood mage?" Before she could even answer, Anders continued, "I've heard that's more horrific than I could imagine…and you saw it. I have a feeling I couldn't fathom a lot of the things you've been through."

Reaching the back of the warehouse, Drea turned to Anders and answered seriously, "You wouldn't want to."

"How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you witness something like that and keep going?"

Turning away, Drea stepped over to a bookcase that was against the back wall, and positioned herself on one side of it before replying, "Carrying on is easy. It's when you stop that these things catch up to you." Gesturing to the other side of the bookcase, she added, "But right now I need you to help me move this."

Obeying, Anders moved to the other side of the bookcase and helped her move it out of the way, revealing a door. After fiddling with the locked door using another set keys of on her ring, the door clicked open. "The Grey Warden's have a weapon cache here and Eamon told me that the King restocked it," she explained.

When they stepped inside, Drea couldn't help but gasp. The room was densely packed with new weapons and armour, all shining as brightly as they day they were made. In awe, Drea carefully reached out to run her fingers over the various objects hanging from the walls. Zeroing in on an intricately decorated short sword, she gently took it in her hands. Even though none of the items were things Anders could use, he too was drawn in by the sight of the pristine equipment that was clearly made by a master craftsman. "It seems the King hasn't stopped caring," he breathed, going back to his original topic.

Glancing up at him, she replied, "It makes sense, he is a Grey Warden. The order meant everything to him."

"Are you sure it's the order?" Anders asked.

Drea never acknowledged his final comment, and returned her attention back to the weapons. After several minutes of admiring the works of art, she finally tore herself away knowing it was time to meet the others. Wisely, Anders let the conversation die.

After securing the warehouse again, the pair headed over to the tavern which was a very short distance away. "Oghren drinking in public…this ought to be fun," Drea chuckled as she reached for the door. But before her hand made contact, the door flew open and almost knocked her back. Angrily, Nate came shoving through the doorway but noticed Drea and came to a forceful stop before running into her. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"I'm not welcome," he shot back, "It's just like I said it would be. I don't even know how I let you talk me into this." Side stepping Drea, he started storming past when she grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

Appearing in the doorway, Sigrun explained to Drea in a quiet voice, "The bartender kicked him out…for being a Howe."

Instantly, the anger flared on Drea's face as she turned to Nate, tugging his arm harder and forcing him to face her, "You get back in there!" Nate glowered at her, but remained silent. "You want to clear your name? Well like it or not, that can't happen through good deeds alone. If you don't come with me back in there, you may as well give up on redeeming your family."

"I don't need you to jump in and save the day," Nate replied through gritted teeth.

"Well, I didn't _need_ you as a Grey Warden, but that's worked out pretty well so far," she countered as she guided him ahead of her. Nate's jaw was clenched tightly as he let her shove him through the doorway. As they passed Sigrun, she exchanged a look of concern with Anders before they followed the two back into the tavern.

Seeing Nate return, the large, ruddy bartender called in a booming voice, "Are you hard of hearing, or just stupid? I told you to leave!"

Stepping out from behind Nate, Drea steadily walked towards the bar as she replied in an authoritative voice, "He is neither. I just couldn't believe anyone would have the audacity to throw this man out. I had to hear it with my own ears."

Many of the patrons in the tavern had turned to see who the bartender was yelling at. Seeing Drea enter the room, one of the servers started rushing towards the bar from the back of the room. Before she could make it there, the bartender growled, "Of course I did! That man's a Howe."

Reaching the bar, Drea loudly pounded her fist onto the counter next to a plate of food waiting to be picked up. As it loudly clattered, she pointed back to Nate and shouted, "That man is a hero!"

Unimpressed, the bartender replied, "Is that so? And who in the Maker's name are you?"

Finally breaking into a sprint, the server reached the bar, upsetting the glass mugs on her tray and sending them crashing onto the floor. "Shut up Tubs," she hissed to the man, "That's the Warden Commander!"

Tubs' face blanched slightly as he turned back to Drea who returned his look with a calm, even stare. "I…I…I'm so sorry," the man stuttered.

"You certainly are that," Drea agreed loudly. Looking down at the plate of food on the counter, she nudged it with a disgusted look on her face. "While you all have been down here enjoying your…fine dining…the Arling of Amaranthine has been under steady darkspawn attack ever since the end of the Blight. Coming up from the cellars, they even overtook the entire City of Amaranthine. Had it not been for Nathaniel Howe and the other small handful of Grey Wardens in this room, the city would have been lost."

Even the patrons who had been trying to ignore the commotion had turned to watch when they realized Grey Wardens were involved. Taking a step back to give herself room to furiously pace, Drea continued, "Do you have any idea how hard we had to work, how much we had to sacrifice to end the Blight? And it didn't stop there - the constant siege up north cost many Orlesian Warden lives! And now this…_this_ is the thanks we get? You try to ban one of our own from this place? Nathaniel was ready to lay down his life to save Amaranthine…but he's not good enough to eat _here_?" Finally Drea stopped pacing, and glared at Tubs with a dark expression on her face, "Forget it; I don't want to talk to you. Where's the owner?"

Nervously, the waitress wrung her hands on her apron as she watched Tubs. Again, he stuttered an answer, "I…I am the owner…"

"Unbelievable," she muttered. "That's it, we're leaving."

With surprising speed for a man of his size, Tubs rounded the end of the bar to block the Commander as she turned towards the door. Shooting him a dangerous look, she stopped moving to hear his reply, "No, please stay. I…We had no idea about the troubles in Amaranthine here…Please, I'll to anything to make it up to you."

Taking a deep breath, Drea took a moment to size up the large man before speaking. "You want to make this up to us? Then you'll make sure everyone who steps foot in this establishment knows what I've told you. I expect this whole city to know what Nate and the other Wardens are still dealing with up north. They don't deserve this kind of treatment here or anywhere else."

Nodding vigorously, Tubs assured her, "I will…I swear by the grace of Andraste." Looking over at Nate, he added, "I'm sorry."

Nodding, Nate followed Drea as Tubs guided her to a large table in the tavern. The other Wardens joined them as Tubs backed away slowly, apologizing several times on the way. Before the whole group had fully settled, one of the waitresses was already unloading a tray full of ale. Grabbing one of the mugs, Drea brought it to her lips before pausing thoughtfully. Suddenly she slammed it back down to the table and shoved it away, "Now, just hold on a second…"

Already behind the bar again, Tubs nervously looked over at the Warden as she abruptly stood up. "Do you mean to tell me," she started, incredulously, "That you are so fantastically ignorant that you have condemned an _entire family _based on the actions of _one man_?"

Tubs' eyes widened as he struggled to come up with an answer. Not giving him time to reply, Drea pushed, "A family, which for thirteen generations faithfully served the throne? A family, which has a history of honorable men such as Nathaniel here? They're _all_ scum to you because they happen to be related to Rendon? Like you're so high and mighty that there's not a single person in your family that you're ashamed of? Or maybe in your case…are ashamed of you…" "

"I am just so sorry. Please tell me what I can do to fix this." Tubs pleaded, not trying to argue or defend himself.

Turning to the others at the table she demanded, "Put your drinks down, we're leaving. I think at the Pearl they'll at least know how to treat people with proper respect."

Distraught at the idea of losing the Wardens to the Pearl and completely disgracing himself, he rushed out from behind the bar again and hurried over to the table, "Whoa…there's no need for that now. If you'll stay, everything is on the house - food, drink - everything. All of you will always be welcome here and your money no good…Please, just sit and let me make this up to you _all_."

Watching the bartender suspiciously, Drea slowly sat back down in her chair as the others shot unsure looks to each other. Satisfied that he convinced the Wardens to stay, Tubs left to talk to the cook about preparing food for the table.

Slowly, Drea could hear the excited whispers of those in the tavern as they tried to pretend they weren't staring. Leaning over, Nate quietly tried to break the tension with joke, "Honourable men? So we're not counting when I came to kill you?" Drea shot him a dirty glare, and he quickly added, "I mean, thank you?"

Scowling, Drea hissed, "Shut up Nate. We have to keep looking disgruntled for a while longer so they take it seriously. And sit up straight. You have to be confident and start projecting that you belong. Treat it like practice for the festivities tomorrow night."

Nate blinked in confusion before he started to understand that she was not nearly as upset as she acted. It was a rouse to spread the story and start clearing his name. Slowly he sat back in his chair and pushed his shoulders back, raising his chin at the same time. Sitting tall, he whispered back to her, "Are you really are going to make us all go tomorrow night?"

"Yes. If I have to suffer, so do you. Now…shut up and be disgruntled," she sighed.

Before he could reply, they both heard Oghren start talking loudly behind them and realized he was no longer at the table. Casually sitting on one of the stools, Oghren started talking with Tubs who had returned from the back and was apprehensively tending to his duties, "By the tits of my ancestors Tubs, you're one lucky man!"

"Yeah. I'm lucky she stayed," he agreed quietly.

"Your what? Oh, yeah her too," Oghren snorted, "But I meant 'ol Nate. You're lucky he was in a sodding patient mood today! But you're _really_ lucky he didn't have his mabari with him."

Tubs froze as he looked at the dwarf. "Mabari?" he asked in disbelief.

"Oh yeah! And it's a vicious one too. But you don't have to worry, its staying at the King's kennels right now," Oghren answered before taking a deep drink from his mug, clearly enjoying toying with the man.

Swallowing hard, Tubs repeated, "The _King's_ kennels?"

"Yep, King Alistair," Oghren confirmed. Looking from his mug up to the bartender, Oghren added thoughtfully, "You know…come to think of it…you should probably keep sending lots of drinks their way, at least until they stop looking so angry. I don't think those two are the sort you want to go making enemies with."

Numbly the man nodded in agreement, and exchanged a worried look with the server that shushed him while Drea had to work to keep the smirk from her lips.


	16. Party Favours

_Author's Note: And finally, here's the crazy ideas that Drea's been toying with! (Okay, that I've been toying with haha)_

**~Party Favours~**

No expense was spared with preparing the palace's main hall for the royal Spring Celebration that evening. True to the theme, the vibrant colours of the drapery and many vivid floral adornments lit up the room with all the life that spring has to offer. The nobles dined on everything from plump pheasant to mouth watering berry tarts as course after course of fine delicacies were brought to the tables. Even the setting sun did not dampen the enchanting mood as the hundreds of candles on the tables and in the large wrought iron chandeliers bathed the room in a dreamy glow.

Drea glanced over her Wardens as they genuinely seemed to enjoy themselves. Each had done their share of complaining at the idea of being forced into such a formal affair but after all the effort Eamon had gone through to find suitable clothing for each of them, none of them felt right about refusing. Not surprisingly however, Velanna was not among them. Eamon was not insulted; he was surprised she even accepted the lodgings he offered.

Almost against her will, Drea's eyes were drawn to the head table where Alistair sat. He appeared as handsome and charming as ever while he smiled and laughed with everyone. However, his lips drew together in a thin line of irritation when he thought no one was looking. Although he had come a long way in being more comfortable in such a setting, it was obvious to her he hadn't come so far as to enjoy them. Drea couldn't help but feel for the King - until the matter of a queen was officially resolved, he could expect Eamon to throw together many more frivolous social gatherings.

It was then that the band struck their first cord. Looking from the head table to the small stage set up across the room from where Drea sat, she saw the group of four. First the men playing the drum and lute began, starting a lighthearted tune. After several bars, the woman with the flute cheerily trilled along with them. The last member, a woman holding a bell, would not play until everyone was ready to dance as she would be chiming their steps. Slowly, the large dance area in the middle started to fill with nobles as they all stood across from their partners, forming two lines.

Turning back to her table, Drea had caught a brief glimpse of a young woman approaching the head table, presumably to ask for Alistair to join her. Even with Drea's quick glance, she could see how beautiful the girl was with her soft brown hair tastefully pinned back. Fine jewels hung about her neck as her tightly fitting green dress accented her other form of jewels. At least Alistair's eyes wouldn't go wanting…

Pulling her out of her thoughts, Oghren snorted, "So are you going to get up there and show us dwarves how you surfacers do it, Commander?"

"I really don't see that happening," she replied dryly as she reached for her wine glass. "Unless there's a sword in my hand with a darkspawn at the end of it - I don't dance."

She didn't even have a chance to set her glass down before someone addressed the table from behind her, "I apologize for not making my way over sooner, but I wanted to thank you all for attending as my guests of honour tonight." Inwardly, Drea groaned as she hastily set down her glass and turned to face Alistair, wondering how much he had heard. The woman in the green dress smiled warmly as her hand was comfortably tucked around Alistair's arm.

Plastering on a smile, Drea answered, "You are too kind - the honour is ours."

"Nonsense," he replied, playing the part easier than Drea expected. Thoughtfully he added, "I wonder though if you would grant me and my guests the privilege of joining us for a dance?"

Making a conscious effort to keep smiling, she tried not to grit her teeth as she replied, "Of course, your Majesty."

"Excellent," he responded with the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips as he and his partner turned towards the dance floor.

Already hearing their snickers, she glared at her companions and tried to decide who to ask to join her. Skipping her gaze over the dwarves, she looked to Anders. Drawing his lips together to try and kill the grin, he quickly replied, "I am afraid I missed dance day at the Circle, Commander."

With a frown, she turned to Nate as she gestured to the band, "I assume you know this one?" Not trying to hide his smile, he nodded. Impatiently she sighed, "Well?"

Easily getting to his feet, he laughed, "With such a lovely invitation, how could I refuse?" Taking her hand, he led her to the floor with the other nobles where they joined the lines across from one another. As frustrated as she was, she was impressed with her dance partner. Between his blue and gold tunic, neatly trimmed facial hair, smoothed back hair, and confident stance, he truly belonged among the nobles.

As the nobles finished coming to the floor, the music changed slightly and soon the bell started to ring. Stepping towards their partners, the two lines met and joined hands as the men bowed to the women. Turning to face the same direction, the dancers took steps forward with the chime of the bell. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Drea commented, "You clean up well."

Keeping his poise, Nate chuckled, "Don't sound so surprised! You've seen me in formalwear before."

Drea kept quiet for a moment until she realized what he was referring to. Furrowing her eyebrows she quietly scoffed, "We were kids."

"True," he agreed, "But you made an impression, even then. Thomas never forgot about you. Even after I left, he always mentioned in his letters if he saw you at some event. He was smitten." Drea's face grew serious and she avoided his eyes while they turned to face each other and stepped in a small circle to the music. Lightly, he added, "It's easy to understand why."

Eventually, her gaze dropped down as a small smile grew at his compliment. "A small, but lovely smile…and how many glasses of wine did that take?" he chided.

The smile quickly dropped as she scowled, "Shut up! For someone who doesn't drink, you've had plenty too."

"I don't drink often but I find it's pretty much the only way to survive these sorts of affairs," he replied casually before adding, "I meant nothing by it other than we should keep it on hand…I enjoy making you smile…"

Silently cursing the wine she had, she felt her cheeks flush slightly as another smile emerged. Unable to reply before they switched partners, Drea subtly rolled her eyes at his comment as her new partner bowed to her. Starting the dance again, Drea stepped in time with the new man who was smiling from ear to ear. "I can hardly believe my fortune - dancing with the Warden Commander? I am the envy of every man here!" he exclaimed quietly to her.

As they stepped in a circle, she saw Nate over his shoulder and he offered a smile. Finishing the circle step however, Drea saw Alistair glaring at her over his partner's shoulder. "I'm not sure you're correct," she replied carefully, "But you flatter me."

Politely she continued to smile and listen to his mindless blathering at the excitement of meeting her in person. What felt like a few short moments with Nate, felt like an eternity with the excited man. Eventually, it was time to change partners again, and suddenly it was Alistair taking her hand. Smiling for the sake of those around them, he quietly grumbled to her, "Are you kidding me with this?" Before she could reply, he added, "You dance with _him_?"

"Y_ou_ made me get up here," she snapped.

"You didn't have to…to…" Alistair's phony smile was hard to maintain as struggled for the right word.

"What? Comply with your _request_?" she bitterly supplied.

Clenching his jaw, Alistair remained silent while they continued to step along with the bell. As they stepped in the circle, Drea again saw Nate over Alistair's shoulder. He winked at her, but she was too tense offer anything in return. As they prepared to switch partners again, Alistair finally grumbled, "Look, Eamon said you needed to talk to me. After this I'll withdraw to my study for a bit. Just have him show you where that is so we can get this over with and you can be on your way."

Although he echoed her own anxious sentiments, it still hurt to have him be so desperate to get rid of her. As she moved back with her previous excited partner, it was hard to keep the cheerful expression on her face. Numbly she went through the motions as the man politely chatted with her. Finally, she was back with Nate as the dance drew to a close. "Are you alright?" he asked, the concern obvious on his face.

"Fine," she sighed, "Alistair will meet with me shortly."

"Good. Then you can get that over with and we can be on our way. And I can get back to trying to make you smile again," Nate finished with a mischievous grin, trying to lighten her suddenly dark mood.

Raising her eyebrow skeptically, she pursed her lips together, but had no witty reply for him. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn't mind the idea of him trying to make her smile again. Turning her focus on the ending of the dance, she turned to bow to him when he suddenly grabbed her hands and quickly spun her towards him. Before she could react, he guided her from the spin to a dip, firmly supporting her. Loudly, she gasped in surprise and couldn't help the laugh that broke through her mood as she grasped at his arm. Looking up at him, she realized he was intensely staring down at her, and her laugh quickly silenced. For a moment, all the tension that Alistair brought melted away, but a new tension replaced it and she found she couldn't tear her gaze from his. Ready to blame the wine, she felt her heart flutter as he slowly stood her back on her feet. Once she was standing, he brought his hand up from her waist and gently stroked down her cheek in a moment that seemed to slow time.

Quietly she whispered, "The drink makes you bold, Nate…"

"Yes," he agreed. For a moment, his eyes traced over her lips and he froze in hesitation. Bringing his hand away from her face, he curled his fingers into a fist and dropped his arm. "But not bold enough I'm afraid," he finished in a regretful tone as he took a step back, and turned towards the table.

Blinking rapidly to break the sudden trance, Drea wanted to go after him, but Alistair was already making his way out of the room as politely as he could. With a deep sigh, she turned to find Eamon so he could direct her to the study, trying to push thoughts of Nate from her mind. Pushing thoughts from her mind was all she ever seemed to do…

It was not long before Drea found herself making her way into the study where Alistair was waiting. Before she even closed the door, he started in on her, "What were you trying to prove out there anyhow? Not only do you bring a _Howe_ into my palace, but did you have to make such a scene with him too? It's an embarrassment."

"Excuse me? A _Howe_?" Drea asked, shocked at the first words out of his mouth. "Howe or not, Nate is a fellow Warden. That used to _mean_ something to you."

"Oh, just a fellow Warden hey? That's not exactly the look your average pair of Wardens share," he retorted, stepping towards her as he spoke. After glaring for a moment he added, "I just can't believe that's what you'd choose over me."

Drea's eyes widened at his accusations as she sputtered, "_Excuse_ me? We can't be together because we can't _be together _- it has nothing to do with anyone else! I…thought we were past this?"

"Oh yes, of course we are! We're past everything," his ire rose as he spoke. "I hope you and Howe have a happy life together with many fat, little _tainted_ babies!"

His words were cut short as a resounding smack echoed in the room. He stared at Drea in shock as her hand still hung in the air after slapping him across the cheek. Furious, he grabbed her wrist and pinned it against her collar bone as he shoved her into the wall. "_I could have you tried for treason_!" he shouted at her.

"_Good! Hang me then!_" she shouted back. "Because I found Flemeth's staff in Amaranthine." It was a thought she had for a while, but actually saying the name out loud suddenly made her sick to her stomach.

Alistair looked as though she had smacked him again as he let her go and took a stunned step back. Giving his head a sharp shake, he replied, "But…we killed her."

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she tried to calm the blood loudly rushing through her temples. "I know. Look…I know I put you in a position you didn't want to be in, I broke your heart, and then I abandoned you. You have a lot of reasons to hate me and I'm not even going to ask you to stop. But Alistair, I have no one else to talk to."

With the pointless fight quickly forgotten, the mood in the room suddenly shifted to a new sort of tension. Tightly, Alistair pursed his lips together in thought. Finally he nodded and walked over to the table, gesturing for her to do the same. As he lowered himself into his chair, Alistair spoke, "Tell me everything."

A rush of relief washed through her with his words. She didn't even realize how burdened she had become until she was suddenly able to share. Keeping the rush of emotion in check as usual, she settled into the free chair across from Alistair and told him everything that happened since his visit to the Vigil. The story came rushing out in one large, muddled blur but she held nothing back. Having lived through the bizarre with her, he questioned nothing as she told him of the talking darkspawn, being captured, the Architect, the Mother, the runes, tome, and staff. Reaching up, Alistair rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to absorb everything she said. "Well," he started slowly, "I'm not even going to get into how upset it makes me that the Architect manage to capture you all just like the Orlesians. I mean…I can't even think on _that_ too much."

Reaching over, Drea gave his hand a quick squeeze as she tried to make light of it, "You don't have to think on that. I'm fine - you know me, I survive impossible situations. It's part of my charm. It's actually the only part."

Faintly he smiled, but moved on quickly, "So these items you think are Flemeth's - they weren't together? Why would they be left in two places? What business would that person even have in the mines?"

Crossing her arms, she sat back in her chair, "I'm not sure they _were_ left in two places. I think, whoever used these items, did it in the Broodmother's lair. That place seemed old…ancient…and not of dwarven make. It looked like some sort of shrine or temple and had a power of its own that even I could sense. But…there were spots near the entrance that looked like they had caved in and been cleared out. I personally wonder if whoever was in there lost the staff during a cave in…possibly even from whatever ritual they were doing."

"And the Architect would have taken it during one of their attacks on the Broodmother," Alistair finished, nodding approvingly.

"It would make sense. The Architect seemed to be very upfront with me and it didn't know how it came to possess conscious thought in the first place. I imagine it must be looking for answers about its origins."

"That _is_ a pretty big gaping hole in this whole situation," he agreed. Almost hesitantly, he added, "So…after everything you've seen, do you have any ideas on that?"

Dropping her gaze down, Drea shifted uncomfortable in her chair. Subconsciously, her hands began to fidget as she replied in a quieter voice, "I do. Alistair…I think it was Flemeth."

Alistair's face twisted in confusion, "Why would she want to give free thought to a darkspawn?"

Awkwardly sitting up in her chair again, she nervously tapped her fingers on the table as she replied, "To start the Blight."

Shaking his head, Alistair argued, "I'm sorry, but that doesn't make sense. She sent Morrigan with us to stop the Blight so it didn't destroy everything, including them and their home. If she had started it, why would she put her only daughter and future…body…in harms way to end it?"

"I know…but…when I put the pieces together, it's all I come up with. Look…we're still both alive because of Morrigan's ritual," She paused for a moment as Alistair immediately broke eye contact. Going along with Morrigan's request was not a proud moment for either of them. Lowering her voice, she forced herself to continue, "Instead of the archdemon's spirit killing one of us upon its death, Morrigan drew the spirit into her unborn child. She offered this alternative to our certain death as a gesture of friendship, and promised to deal with the burden of the child herself. I still want to believe it was out of friendship…but at one point she did say that she realized it was what Flemeth intended for her all along."

Surprised, Alistair snapped his attention back to Drea, but she continued before he could cut her off, "But being that she was dead, I didn't think that mattered! Now though…now it makes sense. The Architect was the one to start the Blight, right? It passed on the ability for conscious thought to its kin by severing their mental connections to the archdemon and thought if it could sever the connection at the source, it could save all the darkspawn at once. But this wasn't a success and just woke the archdemon, ushering in the Blight. If Morrigan was right and Flemeth wanted her to capture the spirit of an old god, it would be too much of a risk to wait and see if a Blight might happen by chance. Knowing what we've come to know about her…I believe she could have found a way to give the Architect free thought and even plant the plan of going to the archdemon without it ever realizing that wasn't its own idea."

Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. Not wanting to directly talk about their shame of following through with the ritual, he frowned, "It does sound rational. Sickening…but rational. But that doesn't explain why she wanted Morrigan with the spirit of an old god, what was happening in that shrine, or how her things ended up in Amaranthine after she died."

"I know," she sighed. "That's why I'm going to the Wilds - there might be answers. Best case scenario, I'm hoping to find a decayed body and signs of a looted hut…"

Alistair remained quiet for a long moment, contemplating everything she laid out to him. If the wine had left him with a buzz at all, her conversation had completely sobered him. With a hard expression on his face, he spoke firmly, "I am coming with you."

"No," she quickly blurted. "You can't."

"Whatever is happening here, I had a hand in it - you can't deny that. I am obligated," he shot back, with the irritation from her refusal clear on his face.

"You _are_ part of this, which is why you can't come," she stressed. "If the story of your involvement with Morrigan's baby gets out, Ferelden will be torn apart. Not to mention the fine line you walk being a Grey Warden and the King. We can't ever let it look like the order is influencing you or you may risk rebellion considering the problem that's caused in this country before. I know times are different, but how suspicious will it look if you start traveling with us after just getting back to Denerim?"

Frustrated, he let out an exasperated sigh when suddenly there was a knock at the door. Without trying to open it, Eamon called through the door, "I beg your pardon your Highness, but people are starting to ask about your absence."

Squeezing his eyes shut in exhaustion, Alistair answered, "Thank you Eamon, I'll return shortly."

Before Alistair could say anything else, Drea quietly pushed, "You may think you're doing nothing, but just letting me get this out…I can't even tell you. I've got no one else I can talk to and I'm starting to lose my mind over it. These far-fetched theories keep circling my brain and after I while, I can't tell what's plausible and what's insane. Between that and how well you've restocked the cache, you've done more for us than I could have hoped." For the first time in a while, she offered him a sincere smile as she stood up.

Standing up with her, they awkwardly faced each other, wondering what was appropriate to do now. At a loss for what to say, Alistair moved over to her and drew her into a quick hug. As they stepped back, they squeezed one another's hand as Drea started moving towards the door. "Oh," Drea stopped and turned back to Alistair, realizing she almost forgot something, "And…it was a bit much, but I do appreciate that you sent a bodyguard to the Vigil."

His eyebrows furrowed as he replied, "What bodyguard?"

Waving her hand dismissively, Drea smiled, "Don't worry, Ashlyn didn't break her promise - she never actually admitted it was you that sent her. It was just obvious…"

"No, Dre," he cut her off, taking a step closer, "I mean it, _what_ bodyguard?" Drea's eyes widened slightly at the sudden concern in his voice. Seeing the subtle panic on her face, Alistair exclaimed, "Who did you leave at your Vigil unattended?"

Covering her mouth with her hand, Drea felt her heart drop, "I have to go back," she whispered.

Closing the gap, Alistair grabbed her arms, "No, Dre you have to go to the Wilds." His eyes darted to the side as he quickly thought of a plan, "I'll send some of my guards up to the Vigil and they'll hold this woman in one of your cells until you return. I'll send them right now…Wait here, I'll go get Eamon."

Drea's mind scrambled through her most recent set of mistakes as Alistair stepped past her and left the room.


	17. Wearing the Inside Out

_Author's Note: I had a hard time naming this, I was really stuck on "The Inevitable Moment"...and..."Wooo Go Nate Go!" :D_

**~Wearing the Inside Out~**

Each person in the group felt the strong pull of the taint, but before anything came into view, Drea motioned for them to halt. Carefully dismounting from their horses, she waved them in close and whispered, "This is how darkspawn are supposed to feel." A smile crossed her lips at the familiar sensation, "I know it feels like these ones are more powerful than those in Amaranthine, but trust me, they aren't. It feels like a small group…two, maybe three?"

"What are they doing here?" Sigrun asked softly.

Lightly, Drea shrugged, "We're near Lothering, so they were probably part of the horde during the Blight. Their entrance to the Deep Roads might have caved in…they're too stupid to search for an alternate, so they're wandering aimlessly." It was clear that even after her time with the Architect, she had no respect for the normal darkspawn intellect. As the feeling grew stronger and the darskpawn drew near, she signalled them to stay in their spots.

The other Wardens tried to argue but she quickly silenced them and handed her reins to Velanna. Crouching to blend with the brush, she started cautiously making her way towards the genlock that was standing out from the tree line. She could have easily picked the creature off without having to use stealthy tactics, but she was anxious to find out if it spoke. As she arrived, she stopped trying to be so quiet and the genlock turned to face the bushes. Confidently, she strode out from her hiding place with her hands on her hips as she bluntly asked, "Can you speak?"

Startled by her sudden appearance, the genlock raised the axe it was holding and sprung towards her. Easily side stepping the axe as it came crashing down, she scolded, "Tsk tsk tsk! I'm just trying to have a conversation with you. You know? Just _talk_?"

Finally prying the tip of its axe from the soft ground, the genlock spun around to face her. Enraged, the creature raised its weapon again and let out a ferocious roar, sending spittle flying as its whole body quivered. Unimpressed, Drea tried again, "Is that a no?"

Drea's cockiness quickly faded as a large hurlock came charging out of the bush beside her. Jumping back, she drew her swords and took a low, defensive stance when she suddenly realized the hurlock hadn't advanced. Looking directly at the creature, she saw the arrow jutting out from its eye. Before she could react, she heard the sharp whistle behind her as a second arrow tore into its neck, sending it sailing backwards into the ground. Not acknowledging that its kin was dead, the genlock angrily charged forward, bringing the axe down in front of it. Again, Drea effortlessly dodged the sloppy swing and knocked the genlock back with the butt of her sword. While it was off balance, she kicked it in the chest and it stumbled over a mess of bramble. Stomping down hard on its throat, she quickly stabbed her blade through its skull, ending the fight in a few quick moments.

As she moved to return to her party, she realized the bush was still rustling. Finally, Arkon and Nara came trotting out, both covered in black blood. Evidently, they pair dispatched the third darkspawn before it could even join the others. Drea couldn't keep the smile from her face as she patted her proud mabari.

Wanting to quickly dispose of the bodies so they could continue, Anders seemed to take delight in burning them into a black pile of ash. It was the first flicker of emotion the group saw from him since he found out that Ashlyn wasn't sent by Alistair. His grim zest allowed them to hurry and get some distance before having to stop and make camp.

"_You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders again, child," Wynne commented as Drea shoved the last of her rations into the saddlebag. Knowing this moment would eventually come didn't make it any easier. Before facing Wynne, Drea gently ran her hand down the neck of one of the beautiful horses that Alistair insisted she take. Finally turning to face the patient, white-haired mage, Drea offered a rather hollow smile. Taking a step towards her, Wynne rested her hands on Drea's shoulders and added, "Now that you're doing the rest of your journey by horse, you could spare a morning if you wanted to talk before you left."_

"_I really can't. I'm sorry Wynne," Drea softly refused, not offering a reason._

_Wynne held her gaze for a long moment as though she were trying to read the Warden's mind and get some idea why she was suddenly so distant. Finally she sighed, "There was once a time when you used to tell me everything."_

_Drea reached up and rested her hand over one of Wynne's as she replied, "There was once a time when I could."_

Even as Drea sat in solitude by the warm, crackling fire that moment broke her heart. The subtle wince in Wynne's eye as she tried not to be hurt by Drea's dismissal still made her stomach knot up. But the thought of confessing to the mage the lows that she and Alistair sunk to in their hour of desperation made her completely nauseous. Wynne would never be able forgive them for going through with Morrigan's ritual.

Trying to ignore her knotted gut, Drea half heartedly stabbed her long stick at the fire, knocking one of the logs over and sending a spray of sparks wafting up into the air. Nate watched her from by the tents for several moments, trying to decide whether or not to disturb her. Her mood had grown increasingly sullen since they left Denerim and she was almost as unapproachable as at the Vigil. In this moment however, he couldn't help but notice how small and fragile she looked as she stared distantly into the fire.

Although she heard him approach, she didn't react as he came over. "You can go now, your shift is done," he said quietly to her.

"No, it's too early," she replied slowly. Her fatigue was catching up to her, but she didn't bother attempting to sleep until she was too exhausted to stand. Any sooner and she would be kept awake by her guilty conscience as it plagued her mind with the faces of those who died by her hand.

"Great," he answered patiently as he settled onto a makeshift bench by the fire. "Then we can sit here together and talk about the stunt you pulled today."

Bitterly accepting that he wasn't going to leave, she finally pulled her stare from the fire to settle on Nate. Stiffly, she replied, "It felt like normal darkspawn, but after everything we have seen since the end of the Blight, the last thing I'm going to do is assume anything."

"You could have gotten yourself killed," he pushed, already frustrated that she was skipping over the point.

Waving her hand dismissively, she turned her focus back to the flames and replied in a tone rife with her irritation, "We all knew the genlock wasn't alone, so that was no surprise. And I had you at my back." Before he could scoff at her for using flattery to deflect his point, she added, "I have travelled with some…amazing…archers, so I don't say this lightly but you are the greatest marksman I have ever seen. I mean…you shot it in the _eye_, Nate. I was not in any danger."

Her compliment was coldly delivered but left him unable to argue without insulting a skill he took great pride in. With a sigh, he let the issue go, "Will you at least go get some sleep? Whatever rest you got while we were eating can't be much."

"What, do you watch me now or something? It's not your job to monitor my sleeping habits," her words were sharp as she jabbed at the fire again, causing another small burst of sparks.

"I can't care?" Nate's voice rose slightly.

"I don't need you to care." she snipped, "You lot are my Wardens, and it's my job to take care of you. _I'm_ always fine."

"What's your problem anyhow?" he finally snapped as he got to his feet.

"Right now? Your incessant yapping," she harshly answered. Glaring up at him, she continued, "Go back to bed, it's not your shift yet."

With a gesture of exasperation, he threw his hands out and asked, "What's going on here…why are you being like this? What happened to the Drea that was easy to talk to?"

Her eyebrows furrowed deeper as she forced herself to focus on the flames that licked up around the logs in the pit. She couldn't remember the last time she was truly carefree, other than when she was still a child. "That was a long time ago," she finally answered in a growl.

"That was just the other night!" he replied incredulously.

"_That_ was the wine," she countered. "I don't know what you expect, but when I'm not the Commander of the Grey, I'm the Arlessa of Amaranthine. That's it! And between that I just keep moving…one foot in front of the other. There's not a whole lot left over to be just Drea…whatever that even means." Soon, she was looking down at the stick in her hands and picking at the bark.

Nate bit his lip to stop from cutting down her thoughts. Carefully, he asked, "And what happens when one foot in front of the other doesn't work for you anymore?"

Casually, she shrugged her shoulders as she started peeling the bark in small strips. "I suppose I fall," she answered simply.

"So that's it then? The rise and fall of the hero?" Nate asked, his voice getting louder. Drea shrugged her shoulders again, not looking up. "That's what this is all about isn't it? You really do believe that crap you fed me about my father simply cracking under the pressure of his own greatness!"

Jerking her head up, she snapped, "That's _not_ what I said."

"Not in so many words," he agreed. "But it's not _power_ that corrupts people's minds! It's isolation in dark times… Do you want the truth about my father? He may have had some good qualities but his bad qualities were _always_ there. He only married my mother for her money! And when he wasn't being reclusive, he was surrounding himself with other money hungry rodents and they fed off each other's greed. He didn't crack under the pressure…his bad qualities grew with his company and his power. And once he got in with Loghain…"

He let out his air in a huff, not needing to finish that sentence. Quietly, Drea pursed her lips together in doubt. Amazed at her, he shook his head, "I can't believe _I'm_ the one that has to explain this to you. If power alone corrupted, your parents should have been awful people considering the Couslands are the most powerful family in all of Ferelden next to the King. But they weren't awful…they were good people. They ran their castle with love, honour, and respect. And they stayed grounded because they held to their principles and surrounded themselves with other good people." Noticing her still-doubtful expression, he sighed, "How do you not see this?"

"Because my parents…had their vices," she recalled Fergus' words.

"So what?" Nate challenged; his frustration at her growing.

"You can't say that, you don't know what they were! What if…"

"It doesn't matter!" Nate cut her off, "Everyone has vices and faults. These don't develop from the pressure of being a leader. _You_ are sabotaging yourself! You're just so damned determined fall from grace that you're going to discount everything your parents taught you about being a Cousland."

"Don't be ridiculous," she spat as she speared her stick into the ground by her foot.

"You don't think so?" he questioned her, starting to pace while he ranted. "Let's see…despite yourself, you _have_ managed to surround yourself with good people that could offer you all the support you would need. But it hasn't done much good since you spend all your time pushing them away! You enjoy wallowing in your self pity so much that if we try to offer you kindness, you're insulted. Where's the respect in that?"

Getting up from her spot, she pointed her finger at him, "You'd better watch your mouth, Howe."

"Oh I am," he growled, "It's just not what you want to hear. So not everyone goes through what you have but _everyone_ has dark times. The ones that don't let it consume them are the ones that let others in. Oh, but not you! _You_ can tough it out! You know what? I watched my father do the same thing – crawl up inside the demons of his own head so much that we couldn't reach him anymore."

Holding back her rage, she sputtered through gritted teeth, "It's not like that! I don't deserve…I… have done _questionable_ things...You just don't know what you're talking about."

"I guess I _don't_ know!" Nate exclaimed as he took a step closer to her, "How can I? You never give any of us a straight answer on anything! Talking with you is like trying to solve a bad riddle. Like when I talked with Father."

Clenching her hands into tight fists, she wordlessly turned to walk away. Going after her, Nate kept pushing, "I wonder how your parents would feel, trying to raise you to be a strong and proud Cousland, only to have to you grow up and be determined to crumble like Rendon…"

Swiftly, Drea spun around with her hand outstretched to slap Nate across his condescending mouth. A loud smack rang through the air, but to Drea's surprise, he caught her at the wrist before she connected. Glaring from his hand to his face, she saw the fire from the sun itself burning in his grey, icy eyes. As he stared down at her, his shoulders rapidly rose and fell while he tried to take steadying breaths. She wanted to jerk her hand away but was hypnotized by the angry passion in his eyes. Her heart started to pound harder.

Still holding her wrist, he stepped forward and grabbed the back of her neck with his other hand. Roughly, he brought his lips down on hers as he moved in closer. She attempted to struggle but there was no strength in her arms as her fingers dug into his shoulder. As he leaned into her, she caught the faint scent of sandalwood and her eyes fluttered closed. His forcefulness soon gave way to a tender passion as his soft lips insistently probed against hers. She felt the heat suddenly flush through her body and despite herself, she felt herself reacting, her lips hungry for his…

Letting go of her wrist as he broke the kiss, he heard a soft sigh escape her lips. Slowly, he drew himself back and rested his forehead against hers, avoiding her gaze. Gently breaking the deafening silence, he murmured, "You have a lot of people who care about you, Drea and…Maker help me…I'm one of them."

As she took a step back, his hair fell forward, framing his face and softening his appearance. Looking up into his eyes, she could see they reflected the same fear and confusion she felt. Hesitantly, she took another step back and turned away, quickly heading towards her tent. He silently stared after her, wanting to chase her, wanting her to come back. When Arkon finally padded past him towards her tent, he knew the moment was gone.

With a deep sigh, he slowly forced himself to move back over by the fire. Dropping onto the log again, Nara moved over to him and rested herself against his leg. Grateful for her company, he reached down to rest his fingers in her fur. "And that," he muttered to her, "Is probably why I haven't spent my time chasing skirts…"


	18. Echo in the Ruins

_Author's Note: I really did grapple with how to handle this chapter as I went back and forth on what they should find here. But, for this story, this felt right._

* * *

**~Echo in the Ruins~**

The sun was relentless in its assault on the group of companions that silently made their way down the Imperial Highway. A destroyed portion of the road would soon force the group to pass through the village of Lothering and this realization left Drea with a sinking feeling. It had been the first settlement to fall during the Blight and was one of the many things that sat heavily on the Warden's mind. She dreaded seeing what had become of the village, especially after Eamon had refused to tell her what the King had seen when he passed through. _He didn't say too much, _was as much of an answer as Drea could pull from him. As they neared the village, she gently guided her horse towards a crumbled section that had settled next to a set of stairs. To her surprise, her horse navigated it without even slowing. Turning over her shoulder, she shouted to the others, "The section up ahead is damaged…completely impassable. We have to go through the town."

No one questioned her while their horses and the two mabari effortlessly followed Drea's new direction. As they got down from the highway, they found themselves standing in a field with the small town still a short distance away. The dread in Drea sharpened as, from where they stood, she could already see some of the buildings were little more than ash or bits of blackened frames. Swallowing down the rising sick feeling, she nudged her horse forward. As it slowly traipsed through the dead ground that had been blackened by the taint, Drea noticed the remains of the cage that housed Sten when she first met him. The village officials hadn't bothered to disassemble it after she took the large qunariwith her…obviously having more important things to worry about. She wanted to mention this to the Wardens, try to show them irrelevant points of interests as a distraction for herself but her mouth went dry at the thought. Almost reading her mind, Oghren piped up, "Hey Warden, isn't this where you met that giant of yours?"

"Sten? Yeah," she replied, still not pointing out the cage. After all he had done to help see her through the Blight, she realized she didn't want him remembered as a criminal.

"Yeah, Sten," Oghren repeated with a chuckle, "He sure was fun to watch in battle! The great, big giant with the great, big sword. If he woulda let me teach him how to berserk…he could have taken on the whole horde himself." Oghren paused to take a drink from his flask before adding, "Eh, but he didn't seem to like me much."

Privately, Drea smiled. It had been difficult to gain the qunari's trust much less his respect. It was only after Drea stood up to him out of frustration that he decided she might be worthy of his attention. Before Drea could say anything, Oghren continued, "You got Leliana here too?"

A small smile grew on her face as she replied, "She was a lay sister of the Chantry believe it or not. I was sure the meek sister was going to get hurt when she stepped between us and a group of Loghain's guards. But before I knew it, she knocked them all on their asses…it was just over at the tav…" Stumbling over her word, she finally looked at the large building that had almost entirely collapsed into a pile of rubble. "It used to be a tavern…" she breathed. Everyone was too taken in by the sight of the fallen town to comment. Drea's horse slowed as her attention was stuck on the large pile of stone and wood. Two adjacent walls were still half standing as though to contain the wreckage, but nothing was recognizable beyond the stone stairs leading to what was once a doorway.

Slowly she turned her head from the tavern to look at the cluster of houses in the opposite direction. She gently pulled on the reins and her horse came to a stop as she stared at the destruction. The ground was littered with the scattered debris from what used to be buildings and the area where the town's healer had set up camp was utterly buried. Most of the homes had been thoroughly burnt and any part of the framework that remained was dangerously unstable. The flutter of a curtain in the distance caught her eye and she realized some of the furthest houses were partly smashed, giving her an eerie view into what was someone's home. Looking from the partially collapsed buildings to the stone heap that was the tavern, she quietly commented, "It looks like they brought their catapults here." Not even glancing back at the others who were still mesmerized by the devastation, she reasoned, "But that makes sense…they had them in Ostagarand Denerim, so they would have had them here." Settling her focus on the stone bridge that spanned the creek running through town, she finished, "Which is why the bridge is perfectly in tact…it would be the only way to get them through town."

Letting out a long breath of air, she gently pressed her heels against her horse as she clicked her tongue, encouraging it forward. As the group fell silent, the only noise in the deserted town was the hoof falls on the stone bridge. The hollow sound somehow made the emptiness of the village absolute as the unnerving stillness squeezed her heart. Bracing herself against the despair, she kept moving forward.

As she crossed the bridge, the Lothering Chantry was brought into full view, and the sight shocked her. The large stone structure had crumbled in on itself, leaving very little of the tower standing. Moving from the path, she urged her horse towards the chantry as her heart dropped lower, knowing it was where most of the village's women and children met their death. Nearing the entrance, she quickly slid off her horse and started towards the door of the broken monument of faith. Surprised, Nate hopped off his horse and started after her while Anders stayed back to help the dwarves. "What are you doing?" Nate called.

Ignoring him, she was already trying to open the heavy wooden doors that were still in tact. When it did not easily give way, she shoved into it with her shoulder as Nate reached her. Suddenly, the door fell from the hinge and Nate jerked her back as it crashed to the ground with a startling thud, stirring up a large cloud of ash. Drea looked up at Nate with grim resolution in her eyes and he let go of her arm.

Peering in, they could see the floor had disappeared under the piles of burnt debris. The thick stench of stale smoke and death clung heavily to the air, adding to the chantry's ominous sorrow. Gingerly stepping into the structure, Drea looked up and quickly realized what happened - a fire had destroyed everything inside the chantry, including all the rafters and support beams, causing the stone tower to collapse. Even as they took soft, cautious steps further into the chantry, the loud crunch of the rubble under their boots was jarring. Her stomach knotted tightly as she looked around at the gutted room - anything that could burn was destroyed, and even the heavy furniture was unrecognizable. Narrowing her eyes, she looked across the room at the alter for the candles of Andraste, expecting to see them melted into a large mess. But there was not even that - they had dissipated into nothing and even the alter was just a pile of blackened wood bits.

"Not to be disrespectful," Velanna broke the oppressive silence, "But where are the bodies? I realize there was a fire, but there should still be bones of some description…"

Drea nodded as she looked down at the mess under her feet and realized there were no bones…nor had there been any outside by the destroyed homes. "That's a good question," she answered quietly, still scrutinizing the floor as the kept crossing the room. There was no doubt that many had died here, but there was no trace of any bodies or clues to how exactly they died. Were they trapped inside and burnt alive? Were they callously slaughtered by the darkspawn while the women were taken away? The questions circled in her mind as she was compelled to push on to the Revered Mother's room.

"_The darkspawn horde is on the move and you are directly in its path," Drea pleaded._

_Trying to keep the irritation from her voice as they continued to argue in circles, the Revered Mother replied, "And what would you have me do?"_

"_Run," she exclaimed loudly, "Tell everyone to pack up and flee! We're headed to Redcliff, you can come with us."_

_Shaking her head, the Revered Mother sighed, "I have encouraged many to flee already, but have you ever tried to evacuate an entire village?" Drea glanced back at Alistair who shrugged helplessly. Seeing their reply, she continued, "It takes longer than you'd expect. And even if we could do the impossible and be mobile…today even…we couldn't make it to Redcliff. With all the children, elderly, sick, and injured we will be far too slow. It's too late."_

"_There are plenty of carts we can have pulled by horse or oxen even! It wouldn't slow us down that much," Drea pushed, refusing to listen to her logic._

_With a severe tone of finality, the Revered Mother spoke sternly, "We die here or we die on the road. At least here, we can make our stand and defend our homes." She paused for a moment as she held Drea under a scrutinizing stare. Finally, she asked, "You are the last two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden?" After Drea hesitantly nodded, she continued, "While I appreciate wide-eyed idealism, this is a lesson you will have to learn, especially considering the hardships you have ahead of you. No-win situations exist and that is a cold, hard fact. And when they come up, all you can do is accept it for what it is…and choose the lesser of the evils."_

The memory slowly dissolved and the blessing that the Revered Mother gave her was all that faintly rang in her ears. Pulling her from her thoughts, Drea felt a hand on her arm and it took all of her strength to remain still rather than instinctively jerk away. Anders squeezed his hand as he spoke, "I can see it all over your face…but this wasn't your fault…"

Accepting his gesture, she placed her hand over his as she turned to look at him. Softly, she replied, "I know. I…had begged them to leave - begged the Revered Mother, begged anyone who would listen. In return, a group of them tried to capture us for the reward money." She sighed before adding thoughtfully, "But it doesn't make this any less tragic…" Anders silently nodded at her words.

Deciding it was time to leave, the group carefully picked their way back through the main room to the exit. With Nate's help, Drea rested the heavy door against the opening before leading her horse back onto the path through the village. As she moved into the area that had been used for the refugees, a large stone monument caught her eye. Again, getting distracted from their need to get back on the road, she crossed the field and saw large mounds behind the monument. "I guess we know where the bodies are," she breathed, realizing the stone monument had names listed on it and the mounds were mass graves. Several smaller mounds were stretched along either side with small headstones. Reaching the monument, she noticed a set of carving tools placed beside it.

"Survivors, maybe?" Anders suggested. Turning back, Drea frowned. "You don't think there were any survivors?"

Gesturing at the grim ruins that once were the village of Lothering, she asked, "Do you?" Anders averted his gaze as he shook his head. Turning back to the stone, Drea continued quietly, "Relatives. They were very brave relatives to come here…the depths of the human spirit never ceases to amaze me."

Reaching up, her fingers delicately traced over the names as she noticed how much space was still left for others to fill in. Dropping her arm back down, she bowed her head respectfully as she started in an even voice, "Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide." Realizing she was starting a prayer for all those that had fallen in Lothering, Nate and Anders quietly bowed their heads. Not familiar with her words, but following their companion's actions, Velanna, Sigrun, and Oghren hastily bowed their heads as well. Taking a deep breath, Drea continued from memory, "I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost…Trials 1:14"

Drea paused as the group took a moment of silence at the monument. The pain was clear in her eyes as she turned to her companions. "We must keep moving," she declared in a dull tone. Once everyone was again mounted, they made their way up another bank, back onto the Imperial Highway and continued.

They were able to get several more hours in before they had to stop for camp. The imposing mood of Lothering still clung to them all as they quietly sat, eating their rations. Eventually, Drea stood up to address the group. Not mentioning their experience at the village, Drea plunged into the arrangements for the night. "We are in the mouth of the Korcari Wilds. While I don't believe the fanciful tales, I'm not thrilled about having to set up camp here so we'll be standing watch in pairs."

"Fanciful stories as in the dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Anders tried to joke and break the tension.

Without a hint of a smile, Drea replied, "Actually, I meant that the Chasind were dumb, mindless barbarians. The Witch of the Wilds is very true, although not of much consequence now..."

"Wasn't that what Morrigan was?" Oghren asked with a smirk, "I know I heard Alistair call her a swamp witch enough times."

"You could consider Morrigan a Witch of the Wilds," Drea agreed, still not taking part in the attempts at levity, "But it's a name that was more for her mother…Flemeth"

"Asha'bellanar? The Woman of Many Years?" Velanna asked, the surprise clear in her voice.

Holding up her hand to quiet everyone, Drea fought the urge to pace as she spoke, "Before I say anymore, I want to make it perfectly clear that the Grey Warden Order failed the people of Lothering."

Not letting her continue, Nate interrupted, "It was Loghain's actions that decided the outcome at Ostagar…that's what sealed the fate of Lothering…"

"I'm sure all those people saw it that way too," she sighed with more than a hint of sarcasm. "The reality is, whatever the reasons, the Wardens failed to stand between the people and the darkspawn. Too often, we think our job is to battle the darkspawn – be the ones to go toe to toe with the monsters. But, what we must never forget is, we are also charged with protecting the people. _That_ is why we are here today. In the darkspawn lairs in Amaranthine, I have come across two items that have left me concerned."

Finally unable to stop herself, Drea started pacing as she continued on, "But yes, Flemeth, the woman of many years. One of the companions I traveled with during the Blight was Morrigan, an apostate that grew up here in the Wilds. Her mother was named Flemeth and while at the time I didn't believe it was _the_ Flemeth of the legends, I have since come to know that was true." Noticing the lost look on Oghren and Sigrun's faces she realized neither of the dwarves had been exposed to much human lore. Looking to them, she continued, "The legend of Flemeth originated many generations ago and the short version is she was a mage that, after a hurtful betrayal, summoned a Fade demon to do her bidding. The demon decided to join with her instead, but rather than become your typical abomination, they just…became one entity." Shrugging, she added, "I'm…not very good with stories."

"If you believe she is real," Anders interrupted again, "When why did you say the Witch of the Wilds is of no consequence?"

As Anders spoke, Drea had paused in her pacing long enough to listen to him before replying, "Because she's dead." Anders shifted his eyes to give Nate a subtle look of confusion, which Nate returned. Resuming her pacing, Drea added, "When we were helping Wynne and the other mages with a crisis at the Circle Tower, we came across a tome that had belonged to Flemeth. Once Morrigan was able to break the encryption, she discovered that the key to Flemeth's immortality wasn't as simple as her being an abomination. The Flemeth I had met was _Flemeth_, but in a different body – she has daughters, or likely kidnaps them, and eventually transfers her…essence…to them. Realizing she was to be next, Morrigan needed us to kill Flemeth and so while she stayed with Wynne at the safety of the camp, Leliana, Alistair, Arkon, and I did as she asked. I believe the only reason we were successful was Flemeth had no time to prepare."

Drea fell silent as a brief moment of guilt flittered in her chest. She also believed they were successful because, after being the one to save them from the devastation at Ostagar, Flemeth didn't expect them to show their gratitude by killing her. Pressing on, she continued before more questions could come, "So why does this matter? Well, I am sure the items I found in Amaranthine belonged to Flemeth. The tome in the broodmother's lair had the same binding and encryption as the Grimoire we gave to Morrigan and the staff I found in the Architect's lair was the one I saw at Flemeth's hut the day I killed her. Being that I found these items with the darkspawn, I believe that this puzzle falls into Grey Warden territory..."

"What about the runes that were by the book in the broodmother's lair? Do you think those belonged to this Flemeth as well?" Sigrun asked, remembering everything she watched Drea stuff in her bag that day.

Shaking her head as she slowly kept pacing, she replied, "I have no reason to believe they did, but at the same time, I didn't completely ransack Flemeth's hut. The fact that the tome was in a shrine with those runes makes me think it wasn't random looters that took these things though. It has to be some sort of mage…maybe a maleficar or blood mage? Unfortunately, with all the exploring we've done in unusual places in Amaranthine, that's all I've found. I'm hoping we can find clues around Flemeth's hut and start tracing back to who might have taken her things. If not…we might have to approach the Mages' Collective…"

Letting out a long breath of air, Drea forced herself to stop and look at all the Wardens sitting by the fire. It was obvious they were disquieted by the large amount of information she unleashed not to mention her obvious agitation. Spreading apart her hands, she admitted, "Yes, I'm nervous." Nate caught her eye as he offered her a warm smile. Feeling his encouragement from across the fire, she added, "Alright, I'm more than nervous. The truth is, I'm a fighter…give me my blades and I can take on, well, the archdemon itself with no qualms. I'm also a noble, now an arlessa, and am perfectly at ease in court. Even in a room full of nobles waiting to stab me in the back, I'm fine and focused. But I am no mage. To be perfectly honest with you all, this is beyond me and I am a fish out of water here. It makes me feel like a complete simpleton, but all this Fade and magic stuff…makes me a little nervous. I don't understand it but with all I've seen during the Blight I know it can be extremely dangerous."

Lowering herself into a spot by the fire, Drea wasn't sure what else to say. From the other side of the fire pit, Oghren lobbed something over to her as he rumbled, "I was nervous once." Easily snatching the object out of the air, Drea saw it was his hip flask. With his deep chuckle, he snorted, "But then I found the cure."

Hesitantly, Drea unscrewed the lid. As the stench hit her nostrils, she instantly coughed and pulled it away from her face. "Oghren! What is this?"

"I call it the Feelings Killer!" he exclaimed proudly.

"Well, when you're done with that nug piss, Commander," Sigrun cut in, "Do you think we could hear more about the Witch of the Wilds? Or do you know of any other stories? I know it's not about our mission, but I find human legends fascinating."

Screwing the lid back on without taking a sip, Drea turned to Sigrun. She wasn't sure if the dwarf really was interested or just trying to steer her towards a lighter topic. Either way, Drea couldn't help but appreciate her gesture. With a tight, lopsided smile, Drea agreed, "Like I said, I'm not much of a story teller, but I'll try…"


	19. Answers in the Dust

**~Answers in the Dust~**

The sky was overcast with dull, white clouds that threw a muted sheen over the world as the group of Grey Wardens approached the area of Flemeth's hut. Although Drea found an odd comfort in the untouched region after seeing the heartbreaking ruins of Lothering, returning still churned her stomach. Pulling back on the reins and bringing her horse to a halt, she narrowed her eyes at the patch of ground where Flemeth died and realized she didn't see a gleaming white dragon skull smiling up at her. Feeling a tight twinge in her stomach, she ignored it and motioned for the others to join her.

Pointing further down the path, she spoke loudly, "Up ahead is the hut Flemeth lived in and there," she pointed to the area next to it, "Is the plateau where she died. She was a shapeshifter and…was a dragon when she died. So even after almost a year and a half, there should still be some sort of remains…Which I think is where we'll start." She tried to speak smoothly, but couldn't hide the hesitations.

"A dragon," Anders repeated, hardly sounding surprised at all. "But wouldn't she have turned back into a woman after she died?"

"My tutor must have missed the chapter on the death habits of a shapeshifter," she replied curtly, realizing he could be right. "But since we don't see any giant dragon bones…we'll have keep our eyes open for human remains as well."

Nudging her horse forward, she abruptly finished the conversation. Closing in on the area, she could picture the defeated dragon of Flemeth as it lay limply on the ground. The idea that they possibly should have been watching for her to revert to her true form made the twinge in her stomach worsen. Reaching the area, they secured their horses and quickly set out to search for remains. The hard ground in the small clearing was flat with no suspicious mounds and it was immediately obvious to them all that nothing was there. Diligently, however, each person carefully poked around.

Drea attempted to keep her mind from racing as she looked over area of nothingness. Silently, she tried to assure herself that Flemeth was dead but insistent doubts broke through. Desperately, she wanted to take a moment to collect her suddenly scattered thoughts but when she noticed her companions sharing private looks of concern and confusion, she spoke up, "I have killed a lot of things in my life - I know what dead is." Realizing her remark of assurance came out as a defensive comment of self doubt, she stopped herself. Fluidly, she began to bark orders without even taking a minute to think over a plan, "But it's obvious nothing is _here_. Oghren and Sigrun, I need you both to keep poking around on this clearing. Make sure the grass clumps don't just have a bone slid under them or something. Velanna, Nara, and Arkon, I need you three to check the surrounding area." Both of the dogs turned to listen intently to Drea as she spoke their names, once again hinting at just how intelligent mabari truly are. "There are a lot of different animals that make their homes here and it's possible one of them took the flesh. See if there are any signs of her being dragged away into the bush. Anders, I need you to also check the area, but look for anything that looks like a grave - a marker or raised ground. After the Blight, someone may have come across her and decided to give her a respectful resting place. And Nate…I need you to come with me…"

Everyone nodded at her orders, not even thinking to question her. It was a hopeful idea that the witch's body was simply moved and vastly preferable to her still being alive.

As Drea and Nate neared the hut, Nate finally asked, "So what are we doing then."

"Oh, we're going to ransack the hut this time," she replied nonchalantly as her heart started to pound harder. Part of her expected to see the old crone standing in the doorway when they got it open. Shaking her head to kill that image, she finished, "I'm not making that same mistake twice. She's got a lot of locked chests and cabinets tough, so I'll need you to pick the locks. Although…I think we can just kick open the front door."

"And if that triggers a trap?" he countered as he knelt down to be eye level with the lock. Even without looking up, he could feel her breath on his neck as she leaned down to try and also look at the lock. Calmly, he added, "So how about you take a step back and let me take care of this?"

Without replying, she took a step back and began to pace as he pulled out the lock picking tools that were tightly strapped in his boot. Ignoring her, he focused on the lock and was pleasantly surprised with how easy it was to open. Sharing a quick look, they let the door creak open, bracing themselves for what they might see. As the door fell completely open and gently bumped the wall, Drea was faced with the unexpected - the room was in completely pristine condition. There was not a single item out of place. Deeply, she sighed, "Of course. They just _had_ to be the cleanest looters in all of Ferelden. I have a feeling it's going to be difficult to find any clues."

"Do you just want me to start going after anything that's locked?" Nate asked as he knelt down next to the chest at the foot of Flemeth's bed.

"Yes, but there shouldn't be anything in that one - that's where Leliana found everything we took last time," Drea replied absently as she started taking cautious steps further into the room.

Frowning, Nate tried to open the latch, but it wouldn't budge. "Really?" he asked doubtfully, "Because it's locked."

Drea's eyebrows furrowed together as she looked from Nate to the chest. Finally, she motioned for him to continue and he promptly turned back to the chest. As with the door, the lock was surprisingly easy and soon they were peering into a completely empty chest. "Forget it, move on to the next," Drea said flatly, not even wanting to venture a guess as to why the empty chest was locked. Her mind was already getting too scrambled.

As Nate moved on to a large locked cabinet, Drea started searching through anything unsecured. Approaching the bed, the memories flowed to her even as she tried to hold them back. It was in that bed that she awoke after the fall of Ostagar. _Oh,_ _you're up. Mother will be pleased _was how she had been greeted by Morrigan who was looking in on her. As Morrigan continued on to explain that Flemeth had saved her and Alistair from the tower, Drea was desperately fighting through the clouded mess of her mind to comprehend it all. Although Morrigan answered all the questions she could, her impatience with the Warden emanated through her every word. Pulling herself back into the present, Drea focused on the empty bed before her and pulled back the sheets, not even sure what she would be looking for there. Nonetheless, in an effort to be thorough, she even lifted the mattress high enough to check under it.

As she stood to move on to the small shelf beside the bed, Nate called to her, "The writing desk wasn't locked but…you may want to come take a look at this."

There was something in the tone of his voice that set her heart pounding again. Ignoring her racing pulse, she forced herself to calmly walk across the room. Nate's eyes were glued to something on the top of the desk and as he moved away to let her in, she saw it was a folded letter. In spidery, scrawled letters it was addressed to The Great Hero. Her heart stopped but she heard rushing in her ears as the room started to take on a surreal quality. Glancing over at Nate, she saw his expression had grown serious as he stood still beside her. Trying to control the tremor in her hands, she slowly reached for the paper. Carefully breaking the seal, she unfolded the letter…

_Ha! Ha! __And so the great hero returns, just as I thought she might. But how disappointing…she comes in search of something only to find there is nothing! But is that nothing not a something in itself?_

The slight tremble in Drea's hands suddenly spread through her whole body as she shook from the deepest core. Taking several steps back, with the letter still in hand, she felt as though she had been struck in the chest. Bumping into a chair, she quickly dropped her hands to grip its back and stop herself from falling. The room started spinning. Flemeth lived. Flemeth had been in Amaranthine. As she watched Nate start rushing to help, something in her snapped. The growing tightness in her chest exploded. As she gripped the back of the chair, she suddenly felt herself flinging it, while she heard a primal scream erupting in the room. She slowly realized the scream had come from her.

Nate had to duck as Drea violently swung the chair past him. It sailed into the door, crashing loudly and bursting into pieces as it struck. Quickly, Nate sprinted to the door in time to see the others rushing towards the hut. Sharply, he waved them off as he closed the door. Turning back to her, he exclaimed, "What in the Maker's name…"

"_No_," she cried, "It's _not_ in the Maker's name." As she shoved the crumpled note at him, she added in an almost hysterical whisper, "Not in the Maker's name at all…"

Keeping his concerned eyes on her for a moment longer, he finally looked down at the paper she shoved into his hand. Flattening it out again, he read it over and felt the sinking feeling in his gut. It seemed like gibberish, but judging by her reaction, it was obvious - Flemeth lived. Looking back up to her, he saw she was covering her face with her hands and saw her entire body was shuddering. Hearing the gasps that she tried to muffle, he realized she was hyperventilating. Dropping the note, he hurried over to help steady her. She tried to jerk away but quickly fell limp as one hand stretched below her, searching for the ground. With Nate's help, she lowered herself to the floor and quickly pulled her legs to her chest, burying her face in her knees. "Panic…attacks…as…a kid…" she got out between desperate gasps for air.

Clasping her hands over her legs, Nate saw she was gripping herself so hard that her knuckles were white. Her whole body convulsed as she struggled to breath. Helplessly, Nate reached over and rested his hands over hers. "I've got you Drea, just try to take deep breaths. You have to try to relax Dre."

The pair spent several tense moments on the old, dusty floor boards in the home of the Witch of the Wilds. Time seemed to lose all meaning as she tried to bring herself back to reality while he kept murmuring words of support. "I don't want…anyone close," she forced out between the heaving. Her breathing was still violent, but was slowing. "Leaders don't…do…this."

"Leaders are human! What makes them leaders…what makes you a leader…is the ability to pull yourself back together and keep going," Nate tried to encourage her as he tightened his grip on her hands.

"Go…finish with all the locks," she hiccupped softly, still refusing to look up. It took every ounce of Nate's will power to abide by her request. He knew she needed a moment to collect herself, but he wanted to comfort her. Not arguing, he forced himself to return to the writing desk and make sure there were no other surprises.

As he rummaged through the rest of the house, he heard her breathing eventually relax. Glancing over at her, he could see she still kept herself balled up on the floor and it tore at his heart. He couldn't image what condition he would be in if he had lived through all the impossible situations she had, but he was still a bit shocked at her sudden breakdown. Wanting to project a stable vibe, he calmly returned to her once he was finished and sat across from her on the floor. "There was nothing else," he informed her. "Just scrap bits of cloth and little else. Nothing that warranted being locked up…"

"I've done…terrible things," she told him in a dull tone, appearing not to hear his report. With her face still hidden in her knees, her voice was muffled as she continued, "And all of Ferelden…Thedas…everyone will suffer for it."

"Drea," Nate spoke slowly and firmly as he reached over to squeeze her arms, "You can't fall apart just yet. We need you right now."

As he spoke to her, she finally looked up from her knees, but refused to make eye contact. He was mildly surprised to see there were no tears in her eyes. Shrugging off his touch, she kept talking as though she, again, hadn't heard him, "I should be dead. And I don't mean that I've been in so many tight situations that it's surprising I'm alive. I mean, I killed the archdemon and that was meant to kill me." She spoke in a lifeless monotone voice as though she were reading her thoughts from a book.

"Yes, you've told us about this. The archdemon is the spirit of an old god that has been corrupted by the taint. If an average person kills the creature, its spirit would be drawn to the taint in the nearest soulless darkspawn and continue with the Blight. If a Grey Warden kills it, the spirit would be attracted to the taint in us – destroying us both," Nate automatically supplied, not sure why it suddenly mattered. As an after thought, he added, "You told Weisshaupt that you were sure the apostate you traveled with was responsible for you staying alive although you weren't sure how. It's alright; you've already explained all of this."

Practically trying to bore a hole into the floor with her intense stare, she snorted, "Oh, I'm sure how alright. Believe me or not, but Morrigan and I had become dear friends. When she realized my death was so close, she offered me an alternative - a ritual. If she were to be with child from a…certain type of man, she would be able to draw the spirit of the old god into it. In the body of an unborn child within her, it could be free of the taint…lose all its corruption…and I would be spared. Looking back now, it's foolish but I was so…desperate. She had _even said_ that she realized it was what Flemeth had always intended for her, and I _still_ did it. We both thought that with Flemeth dead, doing as she had hoped wouldn't matter. So…so stupid... I should have sacrificed myself - that was my duty…"

"An unborn child?" Nate asked softly, trying to wrap his head around her confession, "And how did that come to be?"

Finally turning her attention directly to him, she answered, "That's not my secret to tell."

Somehow, he knew Alistair was involved. Having a witch child that was also a bastard price was a whole other set of problems that set his mind racing. However, the unnerving look in her eyes kept him from pushing again. Searching for something else to say, he finally replied, "You did what you had…"

"Don't tell me I did what I had to do," she interrupted bitterly. Squeezing her eyes closed, Drea turned her head to the side and rested her cheek against her knee. "It was a coward's move. What I had to do was die, and I didn't."

Nate sat quietly for a moment, resting his hands in his lap as he crossed his legs. Quietly, he asked, "Drea…do you honestly think that would have made a difference - sacrificing yourself? You believe Flemeth is the one who gave the Architect conscious thought and even planted the seed in its mind that eventually started the Blight. How much more could she be capable of? What if she already knew that neither of you would have gone along with this…ritual...if she were still alive? What if she started the strife at the Circle Tower so Morrigan would get her Grimoire and send you to kill her?" A doubtful look crossed Drea's face, but she remained silent. "Is that really so far fetched? And if she went through all of that, do you honestly believe she wouldn't have had some other way to accomplish her goal if you refused? It might actually have been _better_ for her if you sacrificed yourself because then the only person be able to stop her would be dead. Truly Drea, you're the only person in Ferelden with this many pieces to the puzzle…"

She was unable to argue with his logic, but it didn't help ease the guilt the weighed on her mind. Flemeth lived. She was free to possess the unsuspecting Morrigan and the child would be raised by the insane, power-hungry witch. Her sense of hopelessness was still strong, but the rational part of her mind started to spark again. There was no choice, she had to try and reach Morrigan.

While Nate and Drea spoke in the hut, the rest of the companions had returned to their assigned duties and kept looking for signs of a body. When the two emerged, Drea waved everyone over. In complete contrast to how she was in the hut, she stood tall and confidently. Throwing her shoulders back, Drea addressed the group, "We can all stop searching - Flemeth is very much alive." The shock was clear on each person's face as they shot each other sidelong glances. Not giving them any time to start asking questions, she pushed ahead, "And now a dear friend is in very serious danger. While I'm not entirely sure what to do, or how to even find her, I have to get back to the arling. When we left, I send Cera with guards and horses to the Circle Tower to try and find the meaning of all those runes and I'm hoping it might help give us more answers. But for now…get back to your horses and prepare to move out. And…be good to your horses - we'll be riding them hard…"

Everyone was quick to their horses and within minutes they were gone. The ominous mood, however, followed them every step of the way.

The next day, as they as they passed through Lothering, their pace never slowed. Drea hardly even noticed the blackened buildings as her mind had drifted to another place. She was so distracted that even the large group of darkspawn caught her by surprise.

They were just entering a shallow valley as they left the stone Imperial Highway when they felt the strong pull of the taint. The darkspawn stormed out from the trees towards the group as they sensed the Wardens approaching them. Seeing the darkspawn, Drea's mind instantly cleared as she scrambled down to the ground, "Darkspawn!" she shouted, "Protect the horses."

The well trained animals stood where they were left as their riders jumped down and raced towards battle. The two mabari showed no fear as they flew past everyone, viciously crashing into the closest darkspawn. Within seconds, the whole valley was alive with the sound of clanging weapons and fierce battle cries.

"Let's see what your innards look like!" Oghren shouted as he gleefully gutted the hurlock that towered over to him. Its roar was silenced as its black organs spewed onto the ground. Like a wild animal, Oghren knocked it to the ground and charged onwards to the next darkspawn that was unfortunate enough to be caught in Velanna's root spell. Helplessly, the genlock watched the dwarf's approach, swinging wildly to defend itself. Seconds later, its head was rolling on the ground and Oghren was again moving on to the next one.

Nate was quick to target the largest hurlock of the group that wore a great horned helmet. He wanted to destroy the biggest threat and his arms were a blur as he swiftly grabbed arrow after arrow from the quiver on his back. Even from where he stood, he could hear the howl of the great monster as it uselessly tried to defend itself from the onslaught of arrows. The darkspawn's flimsy armour did little to protect it and one arrow managed to sink into its chest, piercing its black heart. For a second, the darkspawn grabbed the arrow in shock before it finally stumbled back and fell onto the ground.

Racing past the arrow-filled body, Sigrun threw one of her daggers at a genlock emerging from the bushes. It fell before it even joined the fight and she ran up to collect her dagger from its forehead. As she reached for her weapon, she felt a tremor on the ground before she was suddenly aware the world was spinning around her. She was airborne.

Drea looked over in time to see Sigrun sailing away from the tree line as a large ogre crashed through the bushes. Announcing its arrival, the large darkspawn puffed out its chest and threw back its head as its loud roar blanketed the battle. The ogre's large horns glistened in the sun as it looked back to where Sigrun landed. Wanting to finish off what it had slapped away, the ogre stomped towards her. Seeing its purposeful steps, Drea ran towards Sigrun. Her long strides brought her there in time to stand over the dwarf as the large hand came crashing down. Bravely stabbing her sword upward, she caught the ogre's open palm and thrust her sword into its flesh. Using all her strength, she swung her sword down, slicing it's hand wide open. Coming to, Sigrun looked up to see the blood splashing down over Drea who was screaming at her to run. "_Run dammi_t," Drea shouted again, finally startling Sigrun into action as she scrambled away from the ogre. Drea moved to follow her when the ogre reached for her with its other hand, snatching her off the ground. Feeling her feet leave the dirt, Drea brought both her blades down into the darkspawn's wrist, but it didn't loosen the grip. Realizing she was eyelevel to the beast, the adrenaline in her veins stopped her from feeling fear. Trying to pry her swords from its flesh to stab at its face, she felt the creature shake her and it was hard to control her limbs. Twisting one sword, she heard its angry roar and looked over in time to see its wounded hand, balled into an angry fist, coming towards her.

She felt no pain as the fist connected with her. Time seemed to suddenly slow as she saw the fist come towards her a second time. As it connected, she heard the crunching of her own bones and realized she couldn't breath. Even the feral growls from the ogre started to sound distant as she looked to the side, noticing the battle scene below her. Most of the darkspawn were already dead and her companions turned their focus on the ogre. She watched with a disconnected interest as Arkon threw himself at the ogre, sinking his powerful jaws into the creature's ankle and viciously shredded the skin with his claws. Feeling as though she were floating, she heard the darkspawn scream in pain and saw it violently kick the mabari off it. Her dog flew several feet and slammed into the ground, not moving once he hit. The world grew dark and even the muffled sounds of all the shouting quieted into nothingness.

Seeing the large ogre with Drea in hand, Nate let go of his bow and smoothly dropped his quiver as he pulled out his swords. With surprising quickness, he raced across the field, not deterred by the sight of Arkon being kicked away. Oghren arrived at the same time, his face red from rage, as he furiously hacked his great war axe into the darkspawn's leg. Pushing faster, Nate used his momentum to jump up the ogre's chest. With two short leaps, he was able to bring one sword down through the ogre's throat while his other sword bit deeply into its face. Throwing Drea to the ground like a rag doll, the darkspawn reached for Nate. Twisting both blades as he straightened his arms out to the side, he left two large gaping wounds in the wake of his weapons. The ogre wasn't even able to make another sound as it limply collapsed into the ground. Gracefully rolling off the darkspawn as it rocked the land with its death fall, Nate landed on his feet and ran to Drea.

Dropping onto his knees at Drea's side, his heart fell. She was unrecognizable. Blood caked everything, her face, her hair, her armour. All of her limbs were bent awkwardly…unnaturally. Violently, his hands shook as he reached down to move the hair from her face, smearing blood everywhere. His face suddenly crumpled as he tried to hold back his desperation. "Drea?" he called to her, his voice almost failing him, "Drea, can you hear me? It's going to be okay Drea…do you hear me? _You're going to be okay…"_

Leaning down, he could hear her laboured, shallow breaths. Her lips hardly moved, but he heard her faintly breathe, "_Don't…lie…to me…"_

Slowly he realized the others were standing behind him, too stunned to move. Spurred on by her hopeless words, he spun around to Anders, "For Maker's sake, do something!"

Blinking himself out of his stupor, Anders stuttered, "I…I don't know if I can…"

Losing any sense of control, Nate's entire body shook as he screamed, "Well you're damn well going to try!" The tears welling in his eyes did little to soften the wild look he had. Still breathing heavily from the fight, he looked like an enraged animal as he trembled with fear and anger.

Anders' mouth dropped open, unsure of what to say, but realizing he was suddenly in danger as Nate looked ready to spring over and pummel him. Quickly, Velanna stepped in between the two men, briskly agreeing, "We'll try together." Hooking Anders by the arm before he could protest, she strode over to the broken Commander. Fishing something from one of her pockets, she grabbed Nate's hand and thrust the item in it. "But in the meantime, you need to go give this to the mabari; it will help him until one of us can tend to his wounds. If we see Drea through this but her dog doesn't survive, there's no telling what she'll do."

Nate blinked blankly at Velanna, but she ignored him as she directed Anders to sit on one side of the body. Giving Nate a gentle push, Velanna passed him to sit on the other side of Drea. Leaning over, she took Anders' hands so they could begin.

Numbly, Nate moved to do as the elf asked, and realized that even with crushed legs, Arkon had dragged himself closer to his master. His irregular breaths were mixed with quiet, pained whimpers. The broken mabari hardly acknowledged Nate as he approached, instead staring intensely at the healers. Oghren quietly watched the scene unfold as he realized there was could never be enough drink in his flask for this situation. Sigrun paced nervously, already wracked with guilt over her carelessness. Nara warily watched Nate as he forced himself to focus on getting Arkon to eat. Instinctively, everyone grew silent as the mage's prepared to do the impossible.


	20. There and Back Again

_Author's Note: I'm so excited with all the new readers that have joined, it really makes my day! I try to post once a week (fighting a flu that stopped me last week), but I will be taking a brief break for a few weeks. There are a few things that's killing my focus and...well with DA2 coming out on Tuesday (!) I think it might be quiet here for a bit anyhow! But I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'll be back to rock the last half of this story soon :D_

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**~There and Back Again~**

_Helplessly, she struggled against the giant fingers that curled around her body as she watched the bloody fist fly towards her. __Kicking against air, s__he tried to scream but there was no sound__…_

Loudly she gasped as she lurched forward. Feeling a firm hand on her shoulder, Drea vaguely realized everything was dark. "Oh good, you're awake," Velanna spoke softly, not flustered by her sudden jolt as she gently pushed her down onto her bedroll.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest as the confusion set in. Desperately her mind raced trying to make sense of why she was no longer on the battlefield. Again, Drea struggled to sit up as she slurred her words, "Where am I?"

Ignoring the panic in her voice, Velanna was quiet for a moment as Drea heard her clinking a glass in the dark. She finally turned to Drea and pushed something into her hand as she briskly replied, "Safe. I'll tell you everything, but first, you need to drink this."

Drea hesitated, but soon Velanna was helping her bring the cup to her lips. Giving in, Drea drank deeply, bracing against the hideous taste that she somehow knew was coming. Trying not to retch as Velanna took the glass away, she suddenly felt a heavy mass flop on her lap and sigh. Instinctively, she reached over and felt Arkon's head on her leg, again hearing him softly whine. As her eyes started to adjust, she could see she was in a tent and the sun had already set. Glancing down at Arkon, she numbly patted him as he stared adoringly up at her. Giving her eyes another moment to focus, she looked over at Velanna to see she was patiently watching her. "How long was I out?" she croaked.

"A couple of days," Velanna answered.

"_A couple of days_?" Drea cut her off, the astonishment clear in her voice. "But…"

Velanna sharply waved her into silence. "It was bad. Drea…you survived injuries more severe than I have ever seen anyone recover from. In fact, even with our combined healing efforts, neither Anders nor I are sure you will have your former range of motion."

Still in a daze, she dropped her eyes down to look at her hands. Slowly opening and closing her fists, she carefully turned her hands over and frowned. She didn't feel a difference. Quietly, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Velanna's deep sigh brought Drea's gaze up from her hands. "Well…so many of your bones were broken that, after we stabilized you, we had to localize our healing so we could set your bones as we went. If we had just healed you like normal, who knows how everything would have fused together. It was simple enough to set your limbs, but the greatest damage was to your ribs and…well when we had to set those, I imagine we looked more like we were slaughtering you than healing you. It was a good thing you were unconscious…I don't imagine anyone could survive the intensity of that pain. And…while we were diligent…it may not be perfect."

Drea silently reflected on the news. A fighter that can't yield a sword is really not a fighter at all; her mouth went dry at the thought. Reaching back over to Arkon, she mindlessly burrowed her fingers into his fur. "I'm alive," she finally said after a moment as she gave a slight nod, "And it couldn't have been easy on either of you. Words don't amount to much, but…thank you."

Stiffly, Velanna continued, "Yes. Well what you also need to know is that we are a short distance outside of Denerim and have encountered an issue." Even in the dimly lit tent, Velanna could see the shock on Drea's face. Before she could ask how, Velanna answered, "Sigrun. She carries a tremendous amount of guilt over her part in the battle. Knowing how important it was for you to return to Amaranthineimmediately, she found a cart in a nearby abandoned farm. She had to put a bit of work into fixing it up but we were able to make good time."

While she merely blinked, the rest of the world had carried on. Her mangled body was easy enough for her to distance herself from, but the black void of missing time was harder to ignore. It added another layer to the surreal film that was surrounding her. Pushing past her brief moment of uneasiness, she silently decided to talk to Sigrun in the morning. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "And the issue?"

"Nathaniel insists…and I'm inclined to agree…that the King be informed of our findings. But we also don't have the time to spare another trip into Denerim. Personally, I think it would be best to quickly deliver a message while everyone else carries on to Amaranthine…"

"I think that's best," Drea agreed. "In fact, if you get me some paper, I can write out an update for him right now." Catching Velanna's hesitant look, Drea added, "It's alright, I'm up to the task of writing a quick letter."

Nodding to herself, Velanna rose to her feet and paused at the tent door. "I'll let Nathaniel know you are awake. He hasn't willingly left your side since you fell…I was a little surprised at his level of devotion…"

As she quietly let all the news settle, she continued to massage her fingers into her mabari's fur. His soft sigh drew a smile from her lips as she slowly closed her eyes. It was only moments later when she heard the rustle from her tent flap. Opening her eyes again, she saw Nate standing uncomfortably near the entrance. Even once he saw she was awake, he still remained several steps away. Finally, Drea gestured for him to come closer as she whispered to him, "I'm okay Nate."

Before he could reply, Velanna came back in with both hands full and a book tucked under her arm. Coming up to Nate, she pushed a bowl and flask at him, "Here…take these…" she instructed impatiently. Leaving him standing there, she knelt beside Drea and unloaded more items. Soon she had lit a candle and turned the journal to an empty page for Drea. Feeling Velanna's sense of urgency, Drea wasted no time and immediately started penning a letter to Alistair. To her surprise, the words seemed to flow on their own. It wasn't the best note she had ever written, but before long she was tearing the paper from the book.

As Velanna dripped wax onto the folded paper for Drea to seal with her ring, Drea found herself fascinated with the journal. "Where did you get this?" she finally asked.

Jolted from her hurried train of thought, Velanna gave Drea a surprised look. "Umm..Sigrun actually," she replied, caught off guard. As almost an afterthought, she added, "Dwarves take their history records extremely seriously and she was horrified at how much history the Dalish have lost. She actually gave me the journal so I could start keeping my own records. I could write down what I do know and track what I learn or experience. It was…a touching gesture actually." Before Drea could speak, Velanna cleared her throat and finished, "But back to the matter at hand. I _was_ taking over for Nate on watch, but I think it would be best if I ran this into town. Sigrun will be upset that I didn't let her do this for you, but I'm the faster rider. I can be back by morning…"

"Go," Drea agreed, dropping the topic of the journal, "Arkon and Nara can stay on watch for the rest of the night." Arkon's ears perked up as he cocked his head at Drea. "Well you can, can't you?" she asked him. Raising his chin, he huffed in agreement as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Then it is settled," Velanna replied, moving to the entrance with Arkon at her heels. Turning to Nate, who was still standing with everything she had shoved at him, she added, "That's for her. She should eat." She left as he opened his mouth to reply.

Turning to Drea, he was painfully aware they were suddenly alone. Awkwardly, he approached her and handed her the bowl of soup. The smell of the stew instantly set her stomach growling and she had to force herself to eat slowly. Carefully, Nate knelt beside her and settled in while she ate. His unease was obvious as he silently watched her. Looking up from her food, she noticed not only were his eyes red but his normally neat hair was stringy and unkempt. Becoming self-conscious under her stare, he cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair. "I've…never seen anyone look so broken before. I was afraid that you'd…"

Setting her empty bowl down, she offered a small smile before shuffling herself into her bedroll so she could comfortably lie down. Reaching over to rest her hand on his, she stared at the tent ceiling and started in a dreamy voice, "I get it now, you know. When I was dying…again…it became so obvious to me. All this time, I keep waiting for the madness to stop so I can breathe. I see how foolish that is now…it's not what this life is. I have to breathe _with_ the madness. And I have to take the good moments as they come - the joy, the support, the love…" She took a slow, deep breath as she rolled her head his direction and looked up at him. His eyes were clouded from exhaustion and worry. It pulled at her heart. Quietly she added, "Moments like I have with you. I would like to have more of those…"

A tired smile crossed his lips as he slowly replied, "I'm one of your Wardens so I'm not going anywhere."

Squeezing his hand, she replied, "I don't mean like that. I…am just concerned how the others would take it…"

Looking down at her hand over his, he was somehow unflustered by her clumsy admission of her feelings. In an even tone, he asked, "Well…did your last group of companions mind?"

"No," she answered quickly. A thought occurred to her and after a short hesitation, she added, "Well…"

"Just one?" he guessed quietly. Her eyes narrowed at his odd comment, but she kept quiet. After a moment, he finished, "Leliana."

Faint alarm was on her face and in her voice as she replied in a hushed whisper, "I don't know what you're..." Instinctively, she started pulling her hand away.

Quickly, he clamped his over hand over hers, not letting her pull away as he interrupted, "Don't. Don't sully it. When we were all talking in the dining hall, I saw the look on your face when Oghren suggested you were talking about her. You covered it well, but I saw a flicker of pain and longing." Embarrassed, she broke eye contact and looked away. Still not freeing her hand, he pushed, "Our families were very different, but on this they were the same. We were both conditioned to believe this sort of thing is wrong. But Drea…we are all just souls housed in flesh and blood. And when one soul stares into the depths of another…and falls in love…it doesn't matter if the bodies are similar."

Her voice sounded distant as she slowly replied, "It's been a year since I've seen her. And I don't even know if she's still alive."

The air felt thick in the tent as the uncomfortable moment lingered on. Drea continued to stare at nothing until Nate finally sighed. "Drea…it was shortly after talking with my sister when I started to see the world clearly. My _soul_ started seeing the world. And I saw you." His words pulled her from her far-off thoughts and finally she looked back up at him. The exhaustion in his eyes was replaced by his subtle intensity. "You were drowning and at times it was hard to reach you, but I knew you were there. But Drea…if your heart belongs to someone else, I won't…"

Squeezing her eyes closed, she shook her head and his words quietly died off. Slowly opening her eyes, she focused on their intertwined hands as she softly replied. "Healing magic is very interesting. I shouldn't be able to remember much, but I can remember everything. I remember you at my side, cradling my face in your hands…Do you want to know what I felt?" She paused long enough look from their hands up to his face. Inclining his head, he encouraged her, "I felt…warmth…and peace. It was a feeling I thought I had found in another but that had just turned out to be more hurt and turmoil. I don't think I'll ever stop caring about her but you…you found me when I didn't even know I was lost. I need you Nate. Please don't turn away from me now."

Looking down at her, he could see the sincerity shining in her eyes. Gently, he brought one hand up to brush the hair back from her face, appreciating her soft skin under his finger tips. "I won't," he promised as he leaned down to lightly brush his lips against her forehead.

The corners of her lips turned up into a satisfied smile as she sat up slightly, pressing her lips against his. Keeping her kiss light, she pulled away and murmured, "Stay with me?" Silently he nodded as he stared deeply into her eyes. Not able to pull her gaze from his, she brought the candle up to her lips and with a quick puff, blew the flame out.


	21. Far From Harmony

_Author's Note: I don't know how you guys found my story, but I'm happy that even more people have joined even when I was on break! :) I'm still not sure I'll be able to post every Sunday, but I'll try! Hope you enjoy :)_

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**~Far from Harmony~**

"So tell me," she started out in a soft voice as she brought herself right up to the bars of the cell, "Can a caged bird sing?"

As the guards silently exchanged glances behind Drea's back, Ashlyn calmly sat on the shoddy, make-shift bed. Keeping her hands folded in her lap as she eyed the lute Drea held, Ashlyn quietly replied, "I have considered myself caged for years now, my Lady. I sing to stay sane."

Nodding as though she expected that answer, she reached her hand towards the nearest guard, gesturing for the keys. The man hesitantly started reaching for his belt until he finally paused. Nervously, the man replied, "I…wouldn't recommend that, Commander."

With an impatient sigh, she looked back at the prisoner, "And how about them?" she asked, "Have they fed you? Treated you well?"

Although the exhaustion was deeply settled into her features, Ashlyn forced a weary smile to show her sincerity, "Yes. All my meals were provided and although they wouldn't talk with me much, they were courteous."

"Excellent," Drea replied before turning towards the guards. "King Alistair sent you here to watch her until I arrived so, being that I am back, you are both free to return when you are ready. I only ask that you see me before you leave so I can send you with a letter of recommendation. Not only did you treat her well, as asked, I understand you took some incredibly long shifts to make sure she remained under the King's eye." Realizing they had been politely dismissed, the guard hastily removed the keys from his belt to hand over. Crossing their arms over their chests and bowing to the Warden Commander, the guards quickly left the room, leaving the women alone.

With the disapproving stare of the King's men no longer burning into her back, Drea opened the cell door and stepped inside. Ashlyn remained still on the cot and silently watched Drea approach. Wordlessly, Drea handed the bard her lute, forcing her into finally moving to accept her instrument. Showing no hint of concern, Drea turned her back on the prisoner as she left the cell. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Ashlyn finally asked as she awkwardly held the lute, dumbfounded by the gesture.

Turning on her heel to face Ashlyn as she closed the cell door, Drea replied, "You've given me plenty of reasons not to trust you," turning her key in the lock, the hollow clicking of the latch emphasized her point before she added, "But no reason not to like you."

Drea took a moment to truly look at Ashlyn as she stared down at her lute. It was a loving reunion as Ashlyn gently ran her hand over the curve of the instrument, pulling it close to her. As she looked up, Drea turned away to hide the conflict in her eyes. Her boots clicked loudly on the stone floor as she sauntered over to the guard's small table. Settling into one of the chairs, she rocked it back so she could rest her feet on the table. Casually crossing her ankles, she folded her hands across her stomach and slowly closed her eyes in anticipation of hearing music. Without looking at her, Drea knew Ashlyn was watching her…likely wondering what the catch was. After several long moments of relaxing at the table, Ashlyn finally strummed her first chord. A small smile crossed Drea's lips at the sound. As Ashlyn worked herself from warming up into an actual song, Drea silently reflected on her last couple of days.

The group of Wardens had arrived late into the evening but Drea insisted on meeting with her advisors the next morning. To her deep relief, they had nothing but good news. Seneschal Varel was quick to explain he had made great strides in finding a replacement for Bann Esmerelle and was waiting only for her approval. Esmerelle had no husband or children and he had given up on the idea of keeping the title within Esmerelle's family. Her closest relatives proved to think far too much like her and he wasn't willing to risk the city's future on petty greed. It wasn't until he started looking through prominent people of the city when he came across Fendrich, one of the leading members of the Amaranthine's Merchant's Guild. After some digging, Varel realized Fendrich was a nephew of Esmerelle's, a fact that he worked to ignore. Fendrich disagreed with most everything Esmerelle stood for, particularly the inflated taxes on port trade. Although it was against the law, he worked out an arrangement with the port merchants to pay a portion of the taxes on any goods they sold to him. It cut deeply into his profits but he saw the value in port trade and didn't know how else to keep those merchants from abandoning Amaranthine altogether. During the crisis of Pilgrim's Path being closed, other merchants followed his example and if the city guard noticed they turned a blind eye since Esmerelle was receiving her money in the end. It meant he was technically a criminal, but this impressive display of principles spoke volumes to the seneschal. Mistress Woolsey also approved of Fendrich as the next Bann.

As the City of Amaranthine recovered from the devastation of the darkspawn attack and loss of its Bann, Mistress Woolsey stepped in to temporarily handle the finances. Even under the limited influence as a Merchant's Guild leader she could see the effect Fendrich had on the economy. She was pleased to report that while there was still a lot of ground to make up for financially, both the city and the Vigil were making surprising progress.

Also impressed with progress was Captain Garevel. Since her inspiring speech, a stunning number of arling guard hopefuls starting showing up at the Vigil. There were many more survivors of the attack than they had first thought. As the Arlessa, Warden Commander, and Hero of Ferelden, her words carried a great deal of weight. Not wanting to turn anyone away, the captain and his highest ranking officers were almost running themselves ragged to keep up with the sudden influx of recruits to train.

It was almost eerie how abruptly the arling's situation turned, but the advisors were practically giddy. Not wanting to take their moment away from them, Drea sat back and watched as the three ecstatically chattered. Even with her new view of life, she found herself greatly distanced from the others. She appreciated the sudden change of fortune but the threat of Flemeth loomed over her head, leaving her quiet and reserved. Passing her gaze over the excited faces of those surrounding the table, she didn't have the heart to tell them of the dark yet abstract threat that was Flemeth's unknown plan. Blaming her lack of enthusiasm on exhaustion, she thanked the advisors for all their hard work and brought the meeting to a quick close.

Drea's mind was brought back to the present as Ashlyn's song died away. Before she could start on another, Drea sighed loudly as she kicked her feet down and let the chair fall forward. "I don't know what to do with you, you know," she commented loudly. "You knew I would find out that you were not a bodyguard send by the King and yet you stayed?"

Ashlyn laid the lute across her lap, keeping it close to her. After a moment of silence as Drea watched her, Ashlyn finally replied, "Aside from the fact that my employer would likely kill me for abandoning my post I guess…I guess it was a little too easy to pretend this really was my life."

It was surprising how little confidence Ashlyn seemed to have, but after seeing how capable she was with blades, Drea knew it could be an act. "Anders," Drea supplied. "I understand he has come to see you already."

Halfheartedly, Ashlyn shrugged her shoulders as she answered, "It's everything, not only him…But yes he came to see me. There was very little said; I love him and he can't trust me. That doesn't leave us with much." Her voice stayed even but the bard's eyes grew distant as she seemed to stare past Drea.

Leaning forward in her chair, Drea sighed again, "Anders is a good man and for what it's worth, he has never been in a position to love before. Between the Circle and being on the run, he couldn't risk feelings clouding his judgment. I think he was hoping, as much as I was, that you would have escaped while we were gone. I _really_ don't know what to do with you. You saved my life, so I can't just have you killed. But you're a spy with an unknown master, so I can't leave you be either."

"The thought of running had crossed my mind," Ashlyn reluctantly admitted. Absently, she started to trace her fingers along the wavy designs etched into her lute as she added, "But I just can't."

Abruptly, Drea stood from her chair and crossed the room to stand at the cell door again. Resting her hands on the bars, she stared at the prisoner until Ashlyn finally looked up into her eyes. Having her attention, Drea spoke, "You may be surprised to hear that I understand." Ashlyn's eyebrows creased together at her statement, but before she could think of a response, Drea continued, "During the Blight, I survived many things, one of which being an ambush by an Antivan Crow. To my surprise, at the end of my blade, the Crow asked for either a swift blow or asylum as returning to the Crows meant a torturous death for his failure. His boldness intrigued me, his logic was sound and there was no denying what an asset he could be in battle. Plus, being that he was a Crow, he would be extremely helpful in getting us through future attacks. Everyone thought I was insane for agreeing to his proposal, but he was upfront with everything and…it just felt right. In the end, Zevran saved my life more times than I care to recall. With the Crows still after him, I wasn't sure living by a port was a good idea, but if he had really wanted to, he'd still be with me…" Her voice took on a slight wistful quality as she remembered their last conversation. He was someone else whose fate she didn't know. She felt a faint pang in her chest as she wondered if he was still alive, especially if he brought the fight to the Crows' doorstep as he hinted. Her questions dissipated as she focused on the woman behind bars and finished, "If it felt right, I would be willing to do that again, Ashlyn. But the first move is yours. You'd have to tell me what I'd be up against."

Ashlyn clenched her hands into tight balls as she broke eye contact with the Warden. It was obvious Drea's offer tempted the bard, but she kept her mouth clamped shut. "Fine," Drea said quickly as she dropped her hand down to grab the keys she hooked onto her belt. Unlocking the door again, she coolly added as she reached out for the lute, "I have other people to meet with, so I'm going to have to cut this short." Obediently, Ashlyn held the lute out towards Drea, when the Warden suddenly shook her head and took a step back out of the cell. "On second thought, what harm would it do to let you keep that?"

Hooking the keys back onto her belt, Drea turned away and started for the door. Throwing back over her shoulder, she implored, "At least give it some thought Ashlyn. Keeping you locked up indefinitely isn't a solution either."

As Drea walked away, Ashlyn realized she hadn't locked her cell door. It sat slightly ajar in an enticing chance for freedom. "You forgot to lock this," she called out. Not responding, Drea reached for the door to leave. Quickly realizing it was left open on purpose, Ashlyn added, "I'm not going to escape you know."

"Indeed," Drea replied softly as she stepped from the room.

After handing over the keys to the usual dungeon guards and informing them the King's men were gone, she made her way to her study. The only thing that could break Drea from her long, purposeful strides was Nate who met her in the hallway. "Quite the look of determination," he commented, "Where are you off to?"

Gesturing to the door beside them, Drea replied, "I'm meeting with Cera. She just got back from the Circle last night." Pausing, Drea noticed Nate was in his full gear. Losing her train of thought, she finally asked, "But where are _you_ off to?"

"To practice with some of Garevel's new recruits. They have more than they know what to do with so I'd like to see if any strike me as Grey Warden material. It couldn't hurt to try and bolster our numbers somewhat too," he responded with a casual shrug.

Drea couldn't help but smile at his constant need to think ahead. Lowering her voice considerably, she replied, "Very well, carry on then…as long as you return to stay with me tonight." His look of surprise quickly melted into a smile and she hastily added, "It's just that I sleep better. I mean the past…it seems to stay there when you're with me."

Leaning in towards her, he answered, "Of course I'll stay with you. I'm just disappointed that's _all_ you want to use me for…"

Before he could continue, they were interrupted by a guard rushing towards them, shouting for the Warden Commander. Slowly, they both turned towards the approaching man, struggling to keep neutral expressions at the intrusion. Reaching them, he stomped to a halt as he noisily breathed, "Commander, I'm so glad I found you."

"Yes, what is it?" Drea asked, managing to keep the irritation from her voice.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to regain some composure before answering, "Commander, there is someone looking for you in Amaranthine. A woman." Taking in another deep breath, he was prompted to continue as Drea cocked her head. "She was at the Crown and Lion. I didn't see her come in or even see her around the tavern, but suddenly she was right there, right beside me. She started asking about, you wanting to know where you were. She seemed…" the man paused as he fidgeted and finally shrugged, "…I don't know. But I told her you weren't in the arling and that Seneschal Varel was at the Vigil. She didn't seem to care though; she just said she'd wait. And then…she was just gone…"

After exchanging a quick glance with Nate, Drea turned to the guard, "And what did she look like?"

Her simple question seemed to make the man uneasy as he shifted his weight between his feet. "I didn't really get a look at her…"

Frowning, Drea clarified, "You had a conversation with someone and don't know what she looks like? Not even the colour of her eyes or hair?"

Awkwardly, he replied, "Well she was wearing a hood. And she…it was dark and…and I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was on days off!"

Realizing what his sudden defensiveness meant, she guessed, "You were too drunk." The guard's expression froze, but before he could stutter an answer, Drea waved him to be still, "You're entitled on your days off. I should just be impressed you remember this much. Thank you, you're dismissed," she finished curtly. Surprised by her display of understanding the guard bowed and hurried away.

Their former levity gone with the guard's news, Drea rubbed her fingers against her temple as she turned to Nate, "Naturally I want to travel to the city and find out what is going on but….should I really care if someone is asking about me? Lots of people must ask about me…"

"True," Nate replied carefully, "But…a hood isn't able to obscure anyone's face to the point that you can't make out any features at all. He had to have been well into the drink in my opinion. And if he was too intoxicated to see straight, something must have really stood out for him to remember it at all. He seemed unnerved…more than just having to admit to his drunkenness."

Nodding, she agreed, "I noticed that too. Not that she would ever have to stoop to asking for leads in a tavern, but _Morrigan_ can leave anyone feeling inexplicably unnerved."

"That would be a little too convenient," Nate argued with a soft chuckle.

"Can't I dream?" Drea sighed, knowing it was too far-fetched. "But even so, I'm not sure I want someone like that hanging around the city. And besides, I'm sure Delilah could use another visit from her big brother."

Drea paused as she heard shuffling behind them. Before she could turn, someone spoke, "Well? Say hello to the nice lady, boy."

A shy-sounding, dull voice hesitantly spoke, "…Hello…"


	22. March of the Marionettes

**~March of the Marionettes~**

Spinning around, Drea exclaimed, "Bodahn? Sandal!" Stepping towards the two dwarves in the hallway, she reached out to clasp arms with the older one, repeating his name, "Bodahn! But…how?"

With a wide smile, he gestured towards Sandal as the younger dwarf stood uncomfortably, "Well after your mage friend, Wynne, told First Enchanter Irving about my boy here, he asked us to come to the Circle Tower. He thought maybe those Tranquilfellows could learn a thing or two from him. We were there for many months and the Tranquil were _very_ fascinated by him."

Sandal remained silent as he stared at the floor. Ignoring his painful awkwardness, Drea lightly clapped her hand on his shoulder, "I'm so happy to see you again Sandal." Turning towards Nate to share her surprise, she saw the curiosity in his eyes as he calmly waited to be included or dismissed. Returning to his side, she quickly included him, "Bodahn, Sandal, this is Nate. He's one of my new recr…new Grey Wardens."

"Another Grey Warden? Well I am very honoured to make your acquaintance Ser," Bodahn replied in his robust, yet polite way as he bowed, "From what your Ambassador Cera has told me, your introduction to the order has not been much easier than the Warden Commander's was."

As Nate bowed his head towards the two, Drea added, "Bodahn and Sandal traveled with us during the Blight. Bodahn was the only reason we all had such good equipment and Sandal worked some amazing enchantments into our weapons and armour. It was like nothing I've ever seen before."

Still not letting Nate add anything to the conversation, Bodahn replied proudly, "The First Enchanter called him a savant."

"Which is why I brought them here," Cera crisply cut in as she came around the corner, "And I didn't think you would mind…especially if you decided you wanted to do something with these runes."

As Cera commented on the runes, Sandal's gaze rose from the floor and settled on the pouch hanging from Cera's belt. "It's shiny," he commented in his slow, deliberate way of speaking.

Drea opened her mouth to disagree - she had memorized every facet of the runes and in no way where they shiny. Before speaking, she paused, noticing the slight look of alarm on Cera's face. Instinctively, Drea understood the rune was hidden in the pouch but Cera didn't expect the young dwarf to know that. A subtle shiver ran down her spine when she realized he was seeing the rune in a way they could not. Clearing her throat, she broke the sudden silence, "I think it would be a good idea for us to start our meeting now."

Stepping over to the door of the study, she opened it wide and gestured for everyone to enter. As the group walked past her, into the room, Drea locked eyes with Nate. She felt her nerves start to knot as she prepared to face the next piece of the puzzle. Although she appeared calm, Nate could see the small waves of anxiety clouding her eyes. Offering her a reassuring smile, he gave her a slow nod before she closed the door.

The faint, musty smell of the books in the study provided little comfort as she took her place at the table. Although the wide open windows provided plenty of light, there was a subtle grayness to the room as an ominous feeling settled over the group. Finally, Cera pulled the rune out from her pouch and set it on the table. Drea couldn't help but watch Sandal as he stared at the stone, slowly leaning towards it. He was hypnotized. Cera kept her hands around it, but when Drea glanced up at her, she shrugged, "It's safe." Drea nodded and Cera slid the rune over to Sandal. Pure bliss radiated from his face as he silently scooped it into his hands. Lovingly, he stroked his fingers over the smooth surface, forgetting anyone else was even in the room. "It's a rune of protection," she finished.

Before the slight disappointment on Drea's face could form itself into words, Cera continued, "But it's unlike anything I've ever seen before." Silently, Drea watched Cera from across the table as she nestled back in her chair and sighed, "It was incredibly difficult to get any information on these. I'm starting to realize just how much knowledge we've been forced into losing under the thumb of the Chantry. It seems tragic…I couldn't find out if they had elven origins or were of the Tevinter Imperium, but they are ancient and incredibly powerful. They protect more than just your body."

Intrigued, Drea leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. Diving into explanation, Cera also sat forward again, making small gestures with her hands, "Given what I've heard about your time during the Blight, I assume you understand about the Fade. While mages can visit in a waking state, everyone visits while they dream. But what you may not realize is, even when we're not in the Fade, we've all still got a dormant presence, a dormant connection, to the Fade."

"That can't be right," Drea interrupted, "Everyone would be at risk of becoming an abomination all the time."

"We are not at risk of spontaneously transforming into an abomination because no creature of the Fade is strong enough to cross over without our help," she explained impatiently before getting back to her point, "These runes are powerful because they too have a presence in the Fade. Anyone who possesses these will be protected both here and there. It's so strong in fact that even if one were to agree to allow a demon in, with this rune it would be impossible." Seeing Drea take a sharp breath, Cera added with irritation, "And before you interrupt me again, this rune is designed more for protection against other mages…particularly blood mages. Fade creatures may not be strong enough to interfere with our dormant essence but mages of dark arts…"

As Cera paused to think of the words to finish the sentence, Drea spoke flatly, "I wasn't going to argue about the usefulness of the rune. I was going to say that I understand now why Flemeth would want those destroyed."

Cera's loud snort stopped Drea from continuing and she frowned at the mage. "Flemeth?" Cera asked with another derisive snort, "Someone may be using her tomes, but Flemeth has been dead for generations"

The knuckles on Drea's folded hands turned white as she started to clench them tightly. Keeping her voice even, she replied, "If she can survive death by my hand, I don't think time will get the best of her." Cera's face drew together in a sour glare. Even when not exhausted by long days of travel, the Circle mage was not known for her patience. Determined, Drea pushed, "I don't understand…didn't you _just_ finish commenting on how much knowledge has been lost because of the Chantry and the Circle? Is it _so_ impossible to believe that someone who has never been under the oppression of the Chantry and has access to old magic would know things you don't?"

Pushing herself back into her chair, Cera clicked her tongue with disgust, "I can't believe I go through all this for you and you repay me with distasteful jokes."

"Am I laughing?" Drea asked in a frustrated tone.

"I want to go home," Sandal suddenly spoke up, deeply affected by the abrupt tension between the two women.

"Quiet boy," Bodahn hissed at him, gesturing at him to stop talking.

Tearing her gaze from the irritated mage, Drea looked over at Sandal. No longer holding the rune, his hands were folded on his lap and he nervously looked away. A long sigh escaped from her lips as she reached over and rested her hand in front of him on the table, trying to reassure him. "I'll stay calm," she promised as she straightened up and turned to Cera, "I'm just…surprised…that this is even news to you. I thought you said you read the Grimoire in the First Enchanter's office."

"I…" she started and hesitated. Crossing her arms, she dropped eye contact and finished, "I didn't get much time with it. I wasn't supposed to…"

Waving her confession away, Drea shook her head. "I know this all sounds incredible, but there is no point to arguing with me on this. I'm no mage, so I'm not sure how well I can explain this, but…Flemeth treats bodies almost like we treat clothing. That Grimoire detailed how she would transfer her…essence…from one body to the next. When her body starts to get too old, she finds her next apostate daughter, prepares her, and takes her over." Cera crossed her arms tighter, almost as though she were trying to fend off a shudder as she pursed her lips together in thought. "One of the women I traveled with during the Blight was to be her next body, only she found out the plan when we found the Grimoire at the Circle Tower. If these runes could offer her daughter protection…completely costing Flemeth her next body…I can see why she would want them destroyed." Keeping the information of Morrigan's child to herself, Drea finished.

Finally looking back up at Drea, Cera inclined her head. Not entirely convinced, she spoke doubtfully, "If that's all true, I…don't know what to say…"

"Say nothing," Drea replied firmly, "This cannot leave the room." As Cera nodded, Drea turned to Sandal and pointed to the rune. "So my next question is, how big would something have to be for you to be able to enchant it with this?"

Not looking up, Sandal replied with a grin, "Small is fun."

Speaking for his son, Bodahn clarified, "Oh, I've seen him enchant things much smaller than the rune he's using. Why, I've even seen him enchant things from broken runes if it's a piece with enough lyrium still in it. I don't know exactly how he does it, but the stone isn't the important part. He just keeps folding it over, concentrating it down…" Bodahn paused with his mouth open when he realized he didn't know how to explain it. Finally he shrugged as he patted Sandal's back.

Slowly drawing her hand across her forehead, Drea fell into deep thought as she absently replied, "That's very good to hear. If you don't mind, I may need you to stay for a little while…I'll make sure you are set up well."

Being his usual, agreeable self, Bodahn had no objections and Sandal was happy with the idea he may still get to work with the runes. It was very shortly after that when Drea dismissed the meeting so the weary travelers could get some rest. She spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation, hardly even acknowledging Akron as he followed her closely. By the time Nate came to find her in her room, she was already in her night robe, curled on her bed. Resting her chin on her propped knees, she was staring down at the rune in her hand. Moving into the room, Nate hesitated on closing the door long enough for Nara to slip in with him. Flopping against the wall near Arkon, Nara sighed as she rested her head on her crossed paws. Akron lazily blinked at her in acknowledgement.

Stepping past the mabari hounds, Nate moved towards the bed. Not looking up to greet him, Drea stayed focused on the rune. In a tone matching her sullen body language, Drea sighed, "I let her down you know…Morrigan." Not interrupting her, Nate sat on the edge of her bed, near her feet. Still not acknowledging him, Drea continued, "I promised to make it safe for her, but instead I made her more vulnerable. If I had refused to kill Flemeth, if Morrigan knew the witch was still alive, she would always be on her guard. I have my doubts that she would have even done the ritual, since she knew she would be doing something Flemeth wanted. But instead I gave her a false sense of security."

Reaching over, Nate rested his hands on her forearms, obscuring her view of the rune. "You couldn't have known all that. You can't waste time beating yourself up," his words were echoes of his words from many times before.

Tightening her grip on the rune, she carried on as though he hadn't spoken, "But I think this is the only thing that can help her now. It's a rune that protects here and in the Fade. Neither Morrigan nor her child would have to worry about Flemeth gaining control over them…but I have to try and find her."

"A rune of protection?" Nate repeated, surprised she wasn't more excited at the good news. Trying to assure her, he pressed, "We'll find her because…we have to. In case you haven't noticed, things around you seem to fall into place since you became a Grey Warden. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the woman in the city is the next step in getting a lead on Morrigan. It's like everything is connected on a string with you."

Stretching her legs out and slowly lowering herself onto her pillows, she pulled away from Nate's grasp. Finally looked up into his eyes, she lightly scoffed, "Strings _woven_ by Flemeth. It's all her. She's the one who created the Architect to start the Blight. She's the one who saved Alistair and me but only so she could send her daughter to take the soul of the old god. I have little doubt that she let us kill her so Morrigan would believe she was safe. It's even likely that she mirrored us during the Blight just to make sure we were successful. This whole time, I've just been a puppet on her string. I saved Ferelden to doom Thedas."

Shuffling himself forward, Nate spoke firmly, "So are you telling me that even if you knew all this, you wouldn't have done everything in your power to stop the Blight? Flemeth or not, you wouldn't have been able to just sit by. Look, something terrible may have been set into motion but now you have the key to stop it…"

Cutting him off, she weakly chuckled as she held up the rune, "Right. The key. Or another string. I mean…lets think this through - everything we saw suggests she took these runes to the altar to destroy them. Whatever spell she had to cast was powerful enough to cause the tunnels leading to the cavern to cave in. Being that there is no way to walk through solid rock, she was forced to flee, losing her belongs. She never expected the darkspawn to clear the tunnel. She never expected us to stumble across the altar. And she certainly never expected us to realize what we found…leaving us with the distinct advantage for once."

Drea paused as her chest heaved in a deep sigh. Nate quietly listened, having heard this already. The corner of her mouth turned up in a lopsided smile as she added, "Or, she still has the advantage because she set it all up, as she's set up everything else. What if, for some reason she _wants_ us to have this rune, _wants_ us to know what it is, and_ wants_ us to seek out Morrigan with it? What if she even wants us to go to the woman in the city?"

"Why could she possibly want that?" Nate asked, as he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"I have no idea! I never have. Flemeth is always ahead of me. I can't even see the path she led me on until I look back on it. I…can't keep doing this," Drea tightened her fingers around the rune, making a frustrated fist.

Leaning forward to rest his hand on her fist, he suggested, "So we need to do something she won't be expecting. Which is hard without know what she expects..."

"I know she would expect me to try and save Morrigan," she started quietly as she looked away. In a voice barely above a whisper, she finished, "So I know she'd never expect me to kill her. And the baby."


	23. Is it Fate

_Author's Note: So this mini chapter popped into my head and I'm not sure I should be including it, but…here it is. I'm in the home stretch of my story, but unfortunately I'm not getting a lot of time to write right now. And I'm really sorry to do this, but I might end up taking a long break again (or have extremely sporadic postings) until I get a chance to really focus rather than scramble to write what I can and not be happy with it...anyhow, hope you enjoy!_

**~Is it Fate~**

Faint streams of sunlight filtered down through the leafy canopy covering the forest, giving the area a peaceful glow. Small bits of fluff floated gently in the air, sparkling as they passed in and out of the dim light before getting caught in the soft, mossy trees. Even with the gentle rustles of animals hidden from sight, it was blissfully quiet as though no creatures wished to disturb the dreamy moment. And yet, even then, something dark drew near.

Although the forest was quiet and still, her presence had somehow gone unnoticed. With detached interest, she watched the woman and her baby as they sat only a short distance away. In a nearby tree, a bird began to happily sing, delightfully ignorant of the danger lurking closer.

An exhausted looking Morrigan blankly stared into the distance as her infant son quietly fed. Finally blinking, she looked down at him, noticing just how quiet he was being. It was almost as if he carried the same uneasiness in his heart as she did in hers. Forcing an awkward looking smile, she ran her fingers over the soft skin of his head, wordlessly trying to assure him.

The uncomfortable gesture was not missed by the predator as she moved in a little closer.

It was the muffled snap of a twig that alerted Morrigan and her head darted towards the sound. The infant let out a surprised gasp as she pulled him from her chest. In a smooth motion she set him into his basket and on the ground at her feet. Unable to see who the intruder was, she still somehow knew. Fighting off all emotion, she hastily stood and pointed in the direction of the noise to accuse in a booming voice, "You _dare_ to approach me, Flemeth?"

Inwardly, the white haired witch smiled to herself, both at how close she got before being noticed and that her daughter instinctively knew who tracked her. Stepping from the shadow, Flemeth casually replied, "I do as I please, child. I _dare_ nothing."

"So it is you," Morrigan confirmed, a hint of disappointment seeping into her tone. "I should have guessed the Warden would lie about killing you."

"Not at all, she killed me quite dead. She was rather protective of you in fact," Flemeth replied as her lips curled in an obscure smile. For a moment both women were silent, but the disbelieving frown on Morrigan's face spoke for her. With a disgusted scoff, Flemeth added, "You don't believe? Even after all I've taught you, all you've seen with your own eyes, you're still just looking for the easy answer? Something you can wrap up with a pretty bow? And here I thought you would come to be something more…not like all the other mice that scurry beneath me. Your shortcomings are a fountain of everlasting disappointment."

"'Twas you that raised me, so you can blame yourself for my shortcomings," Morrigan bitterly retorted as she defensively crossed her arms.

"Ha! So I can," Flemeth agreed, genuinely amused by her response. Mimicking her daughter's stance, Flemeth also folder her arms across her chest although she retained a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Again, both women fell quiet in another silent stand off. A hush fell over the woods, and even the oblivious bird abandoned its song. Not flinching, Morrigan broke the stillness, "You cannot take me."

Raising her eyebrow and cocking her head to the side, Flemeth replied, "And where do you expect I would take you, I wonder?"

Clenching her jaw, Morrigan reminded her, "I've read your Grimoire. I am _not_ some empty vessel just waiting to be filled."

"Oh right…that," Flemeth answered flippantly. Even as she gave an understanding nod of her head, her eyes flickered down to the baby in the basket.

Almost in response to her passing gaze, the boy let out a sharp cry as his limbs involuntarily jerked. Morrigan narrowed her eyes in a dark expression as she spoke in a low tone, "And I will _not_ let you have my son."

Flemeth threw her head back as her maniacal laughter crackled through the forest. "Son? Is that what you are calling Urthemiel? Foolish girl!" Morrigan finally flinched as she glanced down at the infant. Before she could say anything, Flemeth finished, "And I _hardly_ need your permission to do anything."

Despite Flemeth's calm demeanour, Morrigan understood the peril she was in. In a sudden, decisive move, Morrigan violently flung her hands outwards, sending a large blast of fire towards Flemeth. The Witch of the Wilds was thrown back several paces before landing hard on the ground. Without hesitation, she sat up again, propping herself with her arm. As she expected, the spot Morrigan stood seconds before was empty – the infant gone as well. Turning her head, she calmly stared at a small, white wolf as it raced from the area with a basket hanging from its mouth. A slow smile spread as she watched it leave.

"I like games, little mouse…" Flemeth whispered under her breath, unconcerned that Morrigan ran from her sight.


	24. Obscured by Clouds

_Author's Note: I'm back! I had to leave this while I did a bit of costuming but the event is over and I can focus once again. Of course now I've got a wonderful Zevran story brewing in my mind (it will be branched off from his exit in this story though, not touching the former Zev stories I've done. Stay tuned!) but I need to finish this one first - I'm too excited about it! Hope you enjoy (and hope there aren't too many distracting mistakes...still a bit rusty haha)_

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**~Obscured by Clouds~**

Soft streams of sunlight filtered in through the partially open window and gently splashed across Drea's face. Even with her closed eyes, she was aware that she was tucked in closely to Nate with her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. Slowly she opened her eyes but kept still, not wanting to ruin the moment. A small smile melted onto her lips as she looked at her hand on his bare chest. It was comforting just to feel the steady rise and fall from his relaxed breaths as he continued to sleep next to her. Tracing her eyes up from his chest to his face, she found herself fascinated by his peaceful expression. As she carefully studied his features, it distantly occurred to her that he must have taken after his mother – it was difficult for her to find traces of Rendon. Or maybe all she remembered of Rendon was how his face was always twisted by his anger…

"What?" Drea felt the rumble under her hand as Nate spoke. She kept quiet and watched his closed eyes, wondering if he was talking in his sleep. Not getting an answer, Nate added, "Why are you staring at me?"

Gently scoffing, Drea replied, "What makes you think I'm staring at you?"

Finally, Nate cracked one eye open to see her looking up at him and arched his eyebrow at her pointedly. Frowning, she lamely defended herself, "Well I'm staring at you _now_."

His chest rumbled again under her hand as he chuckled. With a soft sigh, he pulled her in closer and they fell into a comfortable silence as Drea absently started tracing her fingers through the hairs on his chest. With his eyes still closed, Nate brought his hand up to rest over hers before asking, "How did you sleep?"

"I always sleep well when you're here," she lifted her head to look at him as she spoke. Slowly he opened his eyes and blinked enough to focus on her. Lovingly, he reached over and gently caressed the side of her face. In a soft voice, Drea whispered, "I love you Nathaniel…"

Having heard those words for the first time he hesitated, his hand hovering by the curve of her jaw line. Quietly, he asked, "Because I help you sleep?"

Drea's eyebrows raised with indignation as Nate tried to keep from grinning. "I was starting to think I slept well because I loved you but I wonder if it's just so I don't have to put up with you being an ass," she shot back as she tried to hide her smirk.

"It's love," he replied decisively, "And I for one am glad to hear it. I was starting to feel cheap and dirty about this whole thing."

Giving up, Drea groaned and rolled away from him onto her back. Laughing, he rolled towards her and propped himself up on his elbow. Looking down on her he smiled again, sincerely this time but she frowned in return. Trying again, he repeated himself, "I am glad to hear it because I've been in love with you for…a while now. And it's nice to know I'm not the only one feeling this way." Emphasizing his point, he leaned down to close his mouth over hers, taking pleasure in their quiet morning.

Unfortunately it was not long before that tender moment was a mere memory and she was angrily shoving open the dungeon door for her and Arkon. As she expected, Anders sat next to Ashlyn's cell where he spent most of his spare time. The loud slam of the heavy door startled them both but before either could say anything, she stormed up to Anders. In a stern voice, she demanded, "Have you gotten any information from her?"

An unsure look crossed the mage's face at his commander's sudden entrance and questioning. Taking his silence as a no, Drea stepped over to the cell and spoke to the prisoner, "Well that is unfortunate. I was hoping to spare Anders from what's to come next but it seems you're giving me no choice."

Ashlyn's eyes darted from Drea to Anders, looking for answers to explain the cryptic words. Seeing Anders return her confused gaze, Ashlyn hesitantly asked, "What…do you mean?"

Taking a step back, Drea leaned against the guard's table and crossed her arms. To stay out of the way, both Arkon and the guard moved to the back of the room near the door. Keeping her expression hard and her tone cold and business-like, Drea answered, "I mean exactly that. You have given me no choice, bard. I have tried being rough, being friendly, even relying on Anders to get you to talk and nothing has worked. But the fact is, I have to know who sent you and why. So since I have failed in getting this information, I will be sending for an interrogator from Fort Drakon." Drea let that linger in the air for a moment before turning to Anders and continuing, "I have seen the carnage left in their torture rooms once they are finished and it is…well quite frankly horrifying. So my heart goes out to you Anders because it will not be easy to sit back. But I do expect you to."

"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Anders quietly asked as he uncomfortably folded his arms over his chest.

"I would rather not," Drea admitted as she dropped her arms and started tapping her fingers along the table. "But I'm out of options Anders. If you can think of something, I'm all ears."

The two exchanged an intense stare but Anders remained quiet apparently having no other ideas. As Drea watched the colour slowly draining from his face, she heard some movement behind her – the door opening and hushed whispers – but kept her focus on Anders. Finally, he broke eye contact and lowered his gaze to the floor. Clearing her throat, Drea finished in a softer tone, "I don't like it either Anders, but Ashlyn is the only one who can help herself now." Turning her attention to Ashlyn, and noticing the distinct nervousness across the bard's features, Drea addressed her, "And you've got until the interrogator arrives…maybe a week…if you want to spare yourself…and Anders."

Secretly, Drea was hoping this would be enough to intimidate Ashlyn into giving up her employer. She had no intention of sending for the sadistic prison torturers she had seen, and doubted Alistair even kept them on in Denerim. But if the bard held strong Drea would have to come up with something. It was finally the guard nervously speaking to her that pulled Drea out of her thoughts, "…Commander? You have a visitor that…is insisting to see you now."

Turning to face the guard by the door, she could see he was young and flustered. Given the serious tone she had set in the room, it wasn't a surprise he was worried about interrupting. With his one little phrase, her curiosity was piqued. This visitor was obviously insistent enough to be lead to her in the dungeon of all places rather than taken to be greeted in the main hall. Giving a sharp nod, Drea signalled for the guest to be let in. Wasting no time, the young guard cracked the door open and nodded to the guard that was guiding the visitor.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and a cloaked figure sailed into the room. Pushing herself off the table, Drea turned to face the person and realized the face was completely hidden. Instinctively, her hand dropped for her sword... "Finally," the figure grumbled as she brushed her way past the guard.

Before she even pushed the cloak back from her face, Drea knew. The voice was unmistakable. Her heart leapt into her throat but she was frozen to the spot. As the hood dropped back from the woman's face, her fiery red hair greeted the room and a coy smile beamed from her lips. "Leliana," Drea breathed.

With that simple rustle of a dropping hood, Drea felt pulled into a dream. Nothing was real. Nothing else mattered. The anxious pair behind her, the looming threat of a mad witch, the throngs of people depending on her…they all faded into nothingness as she stared at the red-headed beauty standing in the room. She couldn't blink, she couldn't breath, and she couldn't risk waking up. Slowly she noticed Leliana was drifting closer to her and somewhere in Drea's mind she realized she was the one moving. She couldn't feel her feet taking one step in front of the other, it felt more like she was floating, like her body was lighter than the air around her. Suddenly, she was there. At the end of her fingertips was the woman she had spent many nights with in her dreams.

As Drea approached, Leliana reached her arms out to her. Wordlessly, the women collapsed against each other in an emotional embrace. Drea was comforted by the gentle berry scent from Leliana's hair as it filled her nostrils. It was just as she remembered. Quietly, the two stood wrapped in each others arms - holding each other for much longer than what was considered proper. Finally, with great effort, they pulled away slightly so they could look at one another. Drea couldn't help but run her fingers through Leliana's hair before resting her hands on her shoulders. Her hair was longer now…

For a moment she stood with her lips parted, trying to form words, but it was impossible to grab even one of the dozens of thoughts that flew through her mind. She could feel herself cracking against the rush of emotions and struggled to hold it in. Her eyebrows creased deeply as she was captured by Leliana's cool blue eyes. Finally finding her voice, she murmured just loud enough for Leliana to hear, "I'm sorry…Lil I'm so sorry…I shouldn't have just left…not like that…"

Taking a step closer again, Leliana shook her head against the apologies. "Shhh," she cooed with her warm, intoxicating smile, "It's alright. I understand."

For a second, Drea could only hold her breath as she fought back the tears that were forming. "I…just can't believe you're really here," she hiccupped slightly as she struggled to keep her voice under control. So many thoughts pounded through her head that one blended into the other and formed a fog between her and reality. Through the fog, time seemed to speed up and slow down simultaneously. Pausing for a moment to collect herself, she glanced at Leliana's dark robe again. Grasping at something on a lighter note, she asked hesitantly, "Were you the mysterious woman in the tavern then?"

Surprised by the question, Leliana threw her head back and laughed. Not even knowing the reason for the laugher, Drea couldn't help but smile. No one could resist her laugh – it reached right into the soul. Finally, Leliana replied, "Mysterious? Oh Maker's breath is that what your guard said? I hate to tell you this but the poor dear was too drunk to see straight. I kept the conversation short and sweet but I didn't think I was being _mysterious_!"

_So many questions…_

"I wracked my brain trying to think of who it could be but I never…" Drea's words faded away with a dying chuckle before she added more seriously, "I just can't believe you're here." Again, Leliana smiled but somehow it was more knowing than joyful. Reaching over, Drea traced her hand over Leliana's cheeks, looking for any scars, "Are you alright?"

_That wasn't the question…_

Reaching up, Leliana clasp her hands over Drea's. "I'm fine," she assured her as she squeezed her hands tightly.

_It needs to be asked…_

A pause hung in the air before Drea asked her next, inevitable question, "Is it over then? Did you…"

Before she could finish her sentence, Leliana wriggled her hand free and rested a finger across Drea's lips, silencing her. Lifting her finger off her mouth, she brushed the small bit of free hair away from Drea's face as she replied, "There will be plenty of time for that later. For now, can't it be enough that I freed myself and I came back to you?"

_She came back to me…_

Before Drea could answer, the pair was interrupted by a loud whine at their feet. Arkon stared up at them, clearly annoyed at being ignored for so long. "Arky!" Leliana exclaimed, noticing him for the first time. Excitedly, Arkon hopped to the side, barking loudly as he stared up at Leliana. As she bent down, he stopped hopping so she could reach over and scratch him behind the ear. "Have you been taking good care of her?" she asked before adding, "You're such a good boy!" Nuzzling his large head into her hands, he huffed a pleased response as she beamed at him.

Drea watched the pair for several moments before finally becoming aware of the fact they were reuniting in a prison with people watching. It suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. "Why don't we go somewhere…well better than the dungeon?" Drea suggested. As if to agree with her, Arkon broke away from Leliana and started to bound towards the door.

Standing back up, Leliana wiped her hands on her pants before glancing over to Ashlyn and Anders. Gesturing their direction, she commented, "But I can see I have interrupted something. I can wait until you are finished."

Shaking her head dismissively, Drea started moving towards the door as she replied, "You didn't interrupt much of anything. It's just a prisoner of mine I'm dealing with."

It was a few steps before Drea realized Leliana had not followed. Turning back she saw Leliana was focused on Ashlyn and suddenly the mood in the room grew thick. Glancing past Leliana she saw Ashlyn no longer looked nervous – she looked frightened. Not breaking her stare into the prison cell, Leliana asked over her shoulder to Drea, "Who is she?"

There was nothing dark in Leliana's voice but somehow Drea knew something was wrong. Taking a hesitant step back towards her friend, she tried to keep her voice casual as she replied, "Just someone I hired a while back. But Lil, you've been on the road, lets just get you settled for now…"

Ignoring Drea, Leliana narrowed her eyes at Ashlyn and repeated, "Who are you?" Keeping her eyes locked on Leliana, Ashlyn slowly started to step away from the bars, moving towards the back of the cell. Anders kept looking between the two women as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Before he could ask what was going on, Leliana accused, "You're one of Marjolaine's girls aren't you?"

Ashlyn's subtle stiffening at Marjolaine's name was enough to condemn her. Leliana's movements were a blur as she threw her cloak back to swiftly grab her bow. Calling out, time slowed as Drea ran through mud towards Leliana but it was too late – the arrow was slashing through the air towards Ashlyn. Even over her shouting, she could hear the air crackling and faintly smelled something burning. Looking past Leliana, Drea watched as the arrow twitched, was knocked into a bar, and snapped onto the floor.

Faint wisps of smoke trailed up from Anders' fingers as he turned to face Leliana. Without hesitation, she leveled her bow at the mage. "_Try that again_," she challenged dangerously.

Thrusting herself between them, Drea turned to face Leliana and yelled, "_What are you doing_?"

The dungeon door thudded loudly and with a quick glance Drea saw the guard had slipped out of the room, leaving her and Arkon alone with the sudden break of madness. She could hear her mabari's low, menacing growl. Like her, however, he wasn't entirely sure what the biggest threat was…


	25. Where the Trouble Lies

_Author's Note: With how little activity my account and stories have had, I'm absolutely stunned that new people are adding my story. But I sure am excited you found me! :D Hope you enjoy..._

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**~Where the Trouble Lies~**

No one moved. Time itself froze. Seemingly unaware of Drea as she stood between them, Leliana and Anders continued to stare each other down. Silently, they dared the other to make a move.

"Anders, don't," Ashlyn quietly begged from the cell, reaching out to grab his shoulder. Easily he shrugged her off, not tearing his eyes from the woman with the arrow pointed at him.

Turning to Anders, Drea shouted, "Anders, stand down!" Not waiting to see his reaction, she faced Leliana and spoke softer, "Lil…stop."

Leliana stared through Drea with eyes that had turned to ice. Realizing she was making no impact, Drea roughly grabbed the tip of Leliana's arrow and pointed it at her chest. Finally, Leliana's focus was destroyed and she glared at Drea, "What are you doing?"

Taking her hand off the arrow, Drea gestured behind her, "That is one of my Grey Wardens, Leliana. I can't let you hurt him." Without speaking, Leliana's eyes darted to the cell. In a hard tone, Drea continued, "And that's a prisoner of my arling. I can't let you hurt her either."

Leliana's eyes narrowed into slits as she sputtered, "You really mean to defend her? She's a _spy_ for _Marjolaine_."

"She saved my life," Drea replied evenly. Suddenly the door burst open as Nate flew into the room, closely followed by Seneschal Varel and the young guard. Seeing the arrow pointed at Drea, each man smoothly drew his sword. Holding up her hand, they paused as she whispered to Leliana, "You're going to want to put that away."

Finally glancing back at the door, Leliana lowered her bow and, after dropping the arrow back in her quiver, raised her open hand to the men. They lowered their blades but kept a firm grip on them. Slowly, Leliana turned back to Drea, keeping her hands spread apart. Satisfied, Drea nodded, "Good…" Sharply turning on her heel, Drea took determined steps past Anders. Drawing herself up to the cell, she pointed at Ashlyn before barking, "Your story. Now."

Blinking rapidly, Ashlyn quickly pulled herself together before replying in a shaky voice, "Marjolaine sent me here to…"

Her words were drowned out when Drea drew her sword and slammed it against the bars. The loud clang made everyone jump as Drea shouted, "_Don't mess with me bard!_ You're trying to convince me not to let Leliana just kill you. I want your _whole_ story, and I want it _now_."

The room echoed with her shouting and everyone remained silent as they stared at the cell. Running a trembling hand through her hair, Ashlyn slowly started, "I…I have never lied to you. Either of you," she paused to look at Anders. He looked away without replying. A hint of an Orlesian accent began to seep into each word as she continued, haltingly, "I grew up in Orlais. Although my family was nothing, we clung to the bottom end of the upper class with old money. But it was running out. We were close to losing the house, close to losing everything."

Letting out a long sigh, Ashlyn turned her back and walked towards the cot. Lowering herself down, she started subconsciously fidgeting with her fingers as she continued, "It was out of desperation that father accepted help from a Chevalier. He had offered to save our home and keep us from being disgraced in exchange for my hand in marriage." She stopped and forced her hands to lie flat on her lap. Frowning, she added, "Looking back now, I realize I should have agreed to this. He was obviously a generous man – Chevaliers are entitled to what they want, there was no reason for him to bargain. He was a good man. But I was young and in love with a boy named Jullien. I was horrified."

Drawn by the anxiety in her voice, Anders turned to face Ashlyn but she didn't notice. Not looking up at anyone, she continued, "When Jullien found out what my father had arranged, he decided we had to run away together. He planned everything out, where we'd go, who we could turn to, even had money aside for us to leave. It would have been perfect, but his father found out. He was furious – Jullien was betrothed to a girl from a very wealthy family and he was not about to lose the generous dowry he was promised. He was akin to your banns here but like all Orlesian nobles, it wasn't enough. As I've already told you, Jullien never arrived at the Chantry, but by then it was too late for me to go back home, my family was shamed. I had to run."

Finally looking up, Ashlyn realized everyone in the room was watching her intently - including Drea's great war hound. Hurrying to get to the point, she carried on, "That's when Marjolaine found me. Well, rescued me actually, but it benefited her too. I knew how to wield a sword thanks to my brother's endless practicing to join the guards. It didn't take her long to hone my skills and soon I was in with her on most of her jobs. I didn't approve of the types of things we had to do but she saved me from a life on the street so I kept my mouth shut. I owed her everything. All my shares went back to my family and from what I understand I kept them from losing the house. They had to renounce me to save face, but saving the house was the least I could do."

"Bullshit," Leliana muttered, interrupting the story. As Drea turned to face her, Leliana added, "She's just saying whatever will make you feel the most sympathy for her. You cannot trust anything that comes out of her mouth – it's all a game."

"Do you really believe that?" Drea asked in a surprised tone. Raising her chin defiantly, Leliana refused to take it back. "Why should I doubt her? Technically, she hasn't broken any laws – what good would it do her to lie?"

"What if her mission is to kill me? Kill me and anyone that might house me?" Leliana fervently argued.

Jolting off the cot, a look of horror crossed Ashlyn's face as she protested, "I swear by the Grace of Andraste that was not my mission!"

Before Leliana could spit out a retort, Drea stopped her, "Enough." Clamping her mouth closed, Leliana's eyes still smouldered with anger. Before turning back to Ashlyn, Drea took a moment to study Leliana's face. Silently, she searched for even a hint of the woman she once knew - the woman she saw minutes before - but was met with a stony expression. Moving to address Ashlyn again, she pressed, "Tell me exactly what your mission was."

Nervously, Ashlyn answered. "Marjolaine sent a few of us to key places in Ferelden where she thought Leliana might return. We were ordered not to do anything but watch and she was very clear that she did not want her hurt in any way. She just wanted to keep an eye on her. Personally, I was excited when the opportunity came up – it's the closest to freedom I've ever known. I wouldn't have to cheat, steal, lie or be something I wasn't; I was actually allowed to be me. Even better, I had the freedom to be the person I always wanted to be. All I had to do was watch for Leliana – that's it."

"How very wonderful for you," Leliana sneered, "And what if I were to tell you that your precious Marjolaine is dead?"

The silence that followed her announcement was almost deafening. In her heart, Drea already knew this, how else could Leliana consider herself free? But at the same time, it added to the growing knot in her gut. "Dead?" Ashlyn quietly repeated. Forcing herself to meet Leliana's intense glare, Ashlyn continued, "She never loved any of us the way she loved you, Leliana. She also never feared anything in this world as much as she feared you. But…while I can't say I'm happy to hear this, I suppose this means I am truly free."

Exasperated, Leliana threw up her hands as she exclaimed, "You cannot tell me you're honestly buying this Drea!"

"What do you want me to do?" Drea challenged. "She has broken no laws _and_ she saved me from being murdered in my home. If she had just let me die, she wouldn't be in this cell today! I see no reason not to trust her."

With slow determined steps, Drea closed the gap between her and Leliana. "There was a time when you would have trusted her too." Leliana's face twisted in disgust, but Drea grabbed her shoulder and passionately tried to appeal to her, "Don't try to say that's not true Lil. Do you not remember Sten? Zevran? If it wasn't for you, I'm not sure I would have let the murderous giant out of the cage. And I'm _positive_ I wouldn't have let the assassin live after he tried to kill me. That was _you_ Lil – _you_ were the one who spoke of faith and redemption. _You_ were the one who begged me to see reason. Now, we have a girl here who has done nothing to us and you want her hanged? Where would that attitude have gotten us during the Blight?"

For a moment, Drea could see the Leliana she recognized as a flicker of doubt clouded her eyes. "This is different," Leliana finally replied, not giving in to her uncertainties.

Carefully, Drea pushed, "What about you? The Chantry lay sister who wouldn't come clean to me on how she knew so much about combat? Where would I be if I didn't give you a chance?"

Weakly, Leliana tried to defend her position, "How loyal can you expect her to be? She's only turning over this new leaf because her master is dead."

Moving her hand up from Leliana's shoulder, Drea gently rested it on her cheek. Looking deeply into her eyes, she softly replied, "And you turned over a new leaf after Marjolaine betrayed you." The muscles along Leliana's cheek flinched as she clenched her jaw. "I can't pretend to know what you went through in Orlais. I can't pretend to know what it did to you. What I do know is the entire time you were gone, I wanted nothing more than your safe return. And now you're back. But Lil…I need _you_ to come back…"

She could see the silent tears start to well in Leliana's eyes and it was all she could do to stop her own tears from forming. Gently, but firmly, Drea finished, "I am going to be releasing Ashlyn. And she will be safe here. But Lil, I want you to stay."

Not speaking, Leliana squeezed her eyes closed and rested her hand over Drea's. Nodding, she silently agreed.

A shuffling at the door caught Drea's attention and she looked past Leliana to the noise. _Nate_. Drea tensed and pulled her hand away from Leliana's grasp. Nate's eyebrows creased deeply at Drea's sudden stiffness, realizing all it implied. Seeing Drea's reaction, Leliana quickly glanced behind them in time to catch the apprehension on Nate's face while he looked between two women. Turning back to Drea, hurt started to creep into her eyes as she searched Drea's face for answers. The walls seemed to close in on Drea as she tried to dispel the subtle look of dread she had. Without exchanging names, a few short glances revealed everything. Both Nate and Leliana watched as all emotion on Drea's face melted away until she stood as a proper, masked noble. In turn, their expressions also hardened as they fell back on their own noble and bard training. None of them addressed the sudden, thick tension in the room.

Taking another step back, Drea forced herself to remain standing tall, fighting the urge to shrink away. Focusing on keeping her voice steady, Drea addressed her seneschal, "Seneschal Varel, Leliana will be staying with us, hopefully for some time. Would you please set her up in our best room and make sure her needs are looked after."

Hastily, Varel shoved his sword back into his sheath and bowed, "Of course my Lady."

Politely, he turned to Leliana and extended his hand to her, "If you will please follow me, I can show you to your room. After you've had a chance to settle, I can also show you around the Keep if you so wish." After shooting Drea an unsure look, Leliana finally accepted his hand. Warmly, Varel smiled at her as he led her out of the dungeon. Both she and Nate averted their gaze as she passed by.

Once they left the room, Drea numbly motioned for the guard to unlock the cell door. She just wanted to finish her business and get as far away from the room as possible. As he opened it, Drea spoke in as official of a tone as she could muster, "Since you have committed no actual crime against me or the arling, I have no choice but to set you free."

Even with the door opened, Ashlyn remained standing in the cell. She looked from Anders to Drea before hesitantly asking, "Would you consider letting me stay as your court minstrel? Or do I have to leave the Keep?"

No longer having to force her confidence, Drea briskly answered, "First, you will send word to the other bards that Marjolaine had sent. Harmless as you say your directives are, I do not want any more spies needlessly hanging around people I hold dear. Then, I will decide if you can remain as my court's minstrel."

With a relieved sigh, Ashlyn replied, "Thank you. I…"

"Anders," Drea sharply cut the woman off, "Take her to her room and keep her out of my sight for at least a few days."

Confused, Ashlyn cocked her head slightly, "My Lady?"

"Don't," Drea growled, "You had your chance to turn to me. I would have understood. I could have helped you."

Seeing Drea's sudden shift in mood, Anders reached into the cell and grabbed Ashlyn by the arm. Forcefully, he pulled her along with him and tried to quickly usher her out of the room. Before he could get far, Ashlyn roughly pulled herself free and turned to Drea. Bowing her head, she replied, "I apologize my Lady, and I am sorry you see it that way." Looking up at her, Ashlyn finished, "But after I heard you talk that day in the mess hall about your mysterious red-haired love, I knew I couldn't tell you the truth. I saw the look in your eyes – I was safer if you thought I was here for you rather than knowing I was here for her."

Drea visibly stiffened but was silent. Not giving her a chance to dig herself any further, Anders grabbed Ashlyn's arms again and forced her away. "Shut up," he hissed.

"See that they get to her room," Drea quietly ordered the guard that stood near the cell. Nodding quickly, he hurried to follow the pair as they left the room. Dear felt a nudge on her leg and knew Arkon was running his head against her knee. Absently, she reached down to rest her hand in his head, but did no more to acknowledge him.

As the door finally closed, Drea realized she was alone with Nate. Over the rushing in her ears, she could faintly hear the sound of his sword being slid into his sheath followed by heavy foot steps. He had seen it all, heard it all. Slowly she forced herself to turn his direction, but her gaze had dropped down to the floor. She could feel the heat in her cheeks as they started to flush red. Slowly, she traced her eyes up his legs, up his waist and finally to his chest. Her stare stayed frozen on his chest – no matter how hard she tried, she could not force herself to look him in the eye. Nate remained silent, waiting for her to say something - anything. After a long, awkward silence, Drea swiftly side-stepped him and marched out of the room as Arkon raced to keep up.

Silently, Nate watched the heavy door swing closed with a hollow thud. As he looked around the empty room, he became aware that this was the second time she had walked out on him here. Again, she left him alone with his thoughts in the dark, bleak dungeon.


	26. Never Simple

_Author's Notes: I apologize if there are mistakes I'm not seeing anymore hopefully they don't distract you too much! It's been a bit crazy around here - summer fun and all - but I wanted to post this :)_

**~Never Simple~**

"_You really should take better care of your hair," Leliana lightly teased as she tried to work her brush through all the tangles. _

"_The darkspawn have kept me a little busy," Drea quipped, enjoying the feeling of having her hair played with._

"_Ah yes, them," Leliana replied. Finishing with the brush, Leliana pulled out a piece of ribbon and started trying different ways of pulling Drea's hair back. Normally she got uncomfortable when the servants back at Highever fussed too much over her hair, but somehow this was different. She was content to let Leliana fuss. "So what are you going to do when they aren't occupying your time anymore?"_

_Even sitting near the tents, Drea was able to see Alistair diligently preparing the stew for the camp. If they saw their way through this, he was likely going to be the next Ferelden King. Was she to be Ferelden's Queen? His Queen? Would refusing leave her leading the fragile Warden order that she's been part of for less than a year? In truth, she didn't like to think of what would happen if they defeated the archdemon – there was no clear place for her. Casually shrugging, Drea answered, "I'm really not sure. What about you?"_

"_I want to travel," Leliana replied confidently. "We've come across so many amazing things just in Ferelden alone; it really has me thinking. There is so much to do and see throughout all of Thedas. It would be a shame if I missed out on it all." Drea couldn't help but smile at the wistful excitement in her tone. After a moment, Leliana added, "I could use a traveling companion you know. And you're pretty easy on the eyes…"_

_Drea quickly stifled the nervous chuckle that slipped out from her light hearted compliment. Quietly, her smile grew as she imagined herself throwing her burdens to the wind and traveling with the free spirit. It was the first time she actually wanted to give any thought to what might happen after the Blight is ended. Finally, she responded, "I might have to think about that…"_

The afternoon light gently filtered in through the open windows of the hallway. As Drea made her way down the corridor, she was too distracted by her thoughts to even take notice of the subtle beauty from the sunlight illuminating the simple hallway. The only thing to finally bring her out of her memories was realizing she was sharing the hall with a figure that was walking towards her. Suddenly, Drea slowed down and nodded, "Velanna, I was hoping to run into you."

Stopping as she raised her eyebrow to Drea, Velanna replied, "You could have had me summoned?"

"And I would have eventually," Drea agreed. Gesturing for Velanna to follow, Drea continued walking again. Not questioning, Velanna turned and followed Drea back through the hallway. It was hardly a surprise that she was led to the study.

By the time Drea shut the door behind them, Velanna was already settling in the chair facing Drea's desk. As Drea rounded her desk to sit, Velanna finally spoke, "May I ask what this is about?"

Scrapping her chair as she pulled it in closer, Drea asked pointedly, "Why are you still here?"

For a brief second, Velanna's usual blank expression twisted with confusion, "I'm sorry?"

Folding her hands on her desk, Drea elaborated, "We had an arrangement. You were to come with me to the Wilds and in return I would turn a blind eye to your disappearance. You've completed your end of the bargain, but you're still here. Why?"

Uncharacteristically flustered, Velanna wordlessly opened her mouth before closing it again. Clearing her throat and quickly gaining control of herself, Velanna admitted, "I'm not entirely sure I have the answer for that. I think part of me is starting to feel like I belong and walking away does not feel quite right. But part of it is a sense of hopelessness. When I first saw my sister in her…condition…I knew she was lost to me." Even speaking of something that must have caused a great deal of pain, the elven woman seemed flawlessly collected.

"I see," Drea replied. Sitting forward in her chair, Drea carefully picked through her next words, "And how would you feel if I were to send you to look for your sister anyhow? Or, more accurately, to look for the Architect?"

Narrowing her eyes, Velanna crossed her arms suspiciously, "Why would you do that? I was under the impression with the bigger issues facing us, you were not about to throw away resources on a lost cause."

"I did say that," she agreed quickly. With a weary sigh, she added, "But I'm not sure it is a lost cause. While the creature was forced to flee following our confrontation, Flemeth being alive changes everything. I have no idea if she and it still have any dealings or if it was merely her pawn, but it is not a connection I am willing to ignore. I know the First Warden will be pleased at my change of heart."

"To answer your question then, I would feel strange about your request. Too much time has passed to hope for much success, but I would do as you asked," Velanna answered curtly.

Relaxing slightly, Drea sat back in her chair before disagreeing, "I don't think that's the case. It promised me that it would never come to me again, but it never promised to leave Ferelden. After some of the ruins I've seen in the last year I know there is a great deal of ancient history that has been abandoned here. The Architect was experimenting with forgotten artifacts and I don't think it would be quick to abandon everything. I suspect this break from hunting it will work in our favour – it might let its guard down thinking we have given up."

Considering the Commander's words, Velanna simply nodded. Without waiting for a reply, Drea added, "And I would not expect you to do this alone. I took the liberty of talking to Sigrun she has already agreed. Your first destination would be Orzammar however, not just a nearby entrance to the Deep Roads. The dwarves would be interested in knowing about the Architect. While we only see the darkspawn during Blights, the dwarves are always at war with them. I believe they would want the Architect as much as we do."

"Do you really think they would listen to an elf and a dead dwarf?" Velanna asked, doubtfully.

Patiently, Drea smiled. Two years ago, she would have thought approaching dwarves for any reason to be ludicrous. Now she was almost sorry not to be joining the pair. "They respect the Grey Wardens. You would have to both be in your full Warden attire but I expect they'll care more about the crest than who bears it. But even so, Sigrun also suggested tracking down other members of the Legion of the Dead to have as many forces in the Deep Roads as possible. Her tactical knowledge is impressive and I think you two will be able to pull together a formidable force."

"This has been well thought out," Velanna quietly observed.

"Yes. But now I want you to think it out. Sigrun has agreed and will be going even if it's on her own. I think she'll be happier with your company, but it is your choice."

Again, Velanna looked at Drea suspiciously, "If are the commander, why are you even asking me? Shouldn't you be telling me?"

Smiling again Drea shrugged. "I suppose. But it can be argued that the Deep Roads are no place for an elf and I'm not interested in building on your resentment. When there are difficult decisions to be made, I will make them. For something like this, would you really lose respect for me if I seek your opinion?"

It was Velanna's turn to smile. As awkward as her smile looked, it was sincere. With a sharp nod, she answered, "Not at all. I will go with Sigrun to the Deep Roads."

"Excellent," Drea stated. "Go get prepare yourself. I will talk to Captain Garevel about sending escorts with you both to Orzammar. If he is able to mobilize those men, I would like you to be on your way by tomorrow morning."

Agreeing, Velanna nodded as she rose from her chair. Not saying anything further, she left to go start packing for her long journey. Before the door closed behind her, it was pushed open again and this time it was Leliana that was in view.

With effort, Drea managed to hide the cringe threatening emerge. Keeping the formal tone she had with Velanna, Drea greeted her, "I trust Seneschal Varel has set you up comfortably? Have you been finding everything alright?"

Letting the door close, Leliana replied in an equally formal tone, "Oh yes, your seneschal is very kind." Drea forced a smile only to be greeted with a blank stare from Leliana before she added, "I travel all the way from Orlais and this is seriously what you have to say to me?"

"It's a valid question," Drea answered calmly.

Narrowing her eyes, she repeated herself, "I travel all the way from Orlais to find only to find you you, _again_, in the arms of some man. Is this seriously what you have to say to me?"

Being only slightly surprised at how quickly Leliana ripped away their pretences, Drea helplessly spread her hands apart, "What do you want me to say Lil? That I'm sorry?"

"Well are you?" Leliana shot the question back as she crossed her arms.

Drea stared deeply into Leliana's eyes before she slowly replied, "For more things than you'll ever know…"

"Like consorting with a Howe?" she asked coldly, unflinchingly staring Drea down. "I'm not sure I even know who you are anymore! The Drea_ I_ knew wouldn't suffer a Howe in her presence, much less bed one."

The muscles on Drea's neck popped slightly as she stiffened against words she never expected to hear from her. Using great effort to stop from shouting, Drea countered, "And the Leliana _I_ knew would be the one pleading his case, reminding me that Rendon Howe acted alone. _She_ would be the one to point out that the Howe family has suffered enough for the sins of one man who was already dead. You're not sure you know _me_ anymore? I don't know who _you_ are at all. What was the point of going to Orlais to wretch your freedom from Marjolaine if you were going to destroy yourself in the process?"

Leliana's nostrils flared at the mention of Marjolaine. Not stopping to defend herself, she brought the conversation back around to her point, "You didn't even wait for my body to be cold!"

Taken aback, Drea could only blink in disbelieve. Slowly, her rising ire faded as Leliana's words sunk in. Finally finding her voice, Drea asked. "Your body? You…think I did this because I thought you were dead?"

Seeing Drea's shock, Leliana's anger cooled slightly. Stubbornly, she pressed in a softer voice than before, "What other reason is there? I told you I would come back."

The hurt in her voice knocked the air out of Drea's lungs. For a moment she struggled between her sudden doubts and her urge to apologize, begging forgiveness. As with the night they last spoke in Denerim, Drea fell back on her noble training to stop from falling apart. Gently, she replied, "No Lil. You blurted out something and after you had a chance to think it over, you had nothing to say. I replayed that night over and over in my mind - it was burned into my memory."

Letting out a slightly shaking breath, Drea pushed herself up from her desk. Slowly starting to pace, she couldn't bring herself to look at Leliana while she continued, "You knew as well as I did that, even after you dealt with Marjolaine, there was no telling where that would take you. Every day since I left Denerim I have prayed to the Maker for your safety. Even if I didn't think you would want to come back here, I had to believe you were safe - for my own sanity."

"I am safe. And I am back. I might not want to be back here exactly, but I wanted to be back to you. Dre, I can't do this again. I can't stand by and watch you be with someone else," Leliana quietly interrupted.

Drea stopped pacing and faced Leliana. Sincerely, she answered, 'I don't want you to…"

Grasping onto Drea's hesitation, Leliana pushed, "The order is recovering. You can come with me now." Sharply Drea shook her head. "Have you thought about it at all Dre? Or is it because of him?"

"I…don't know," Drea shrugged helplessly, "I have been faced with too much – there has been no time to think about anything else."

"Right," Leliana agreed sarcastically, instantly put off by Drea's answer. "You're _far_ too busy to think of the future, of what you want. That comes as a real shock."

Frowning, Drea quietly replied, "And now you're starting to sound just like Nate…"

Not taking offense, Leliana nodded, "That doesn't surprise me either. You wouldn't give a second thought to anyone that didn't call you on your bullshit. Despite how miserable you claim you are with all the roles you've been handed, the truth is the second you have a taste of freedom, you seize up. You know how to think for everyone else, but no idea how to do it for yourself!"

Throwing her hands up in frustration, Drea conceded, "Fine. You're right. There were some times when the dust did briefly settle. And instead of being excited to shape a bit of my own destiny I almost threw myself off the edge of sanity. Nate didn't call me on my bullshit – he saved me from it. And I owe him a lot. But Lil, I'm serious when I say the storm that brought the Blight didn't end. It just paused long enough to reverse directions and keep going…"

Raising an eyebrow, Leliana sceptically asked, "Let me guess, it's the end of the world – again?"

Drea didn't reply right away. Her brief silence was enough to replace all the emotions flying around the room with a different tension. In the sudden stillness, before Drea spoke again, Leliana understood her next words would be important. "Possibly the end of the world. At the very least, Morrigan is in serious danger."

"Morrigan?" Leliana added in a hushed voice, "What has she done this time?"

Drea's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "This time?"

Giving a small shrug of her shoulder, Leliana clarified, "Alistair told me what happened, why she disappeared as soon as you killed the archdemon."

Taking a step towards Leliana, Drea had to stop herself from reacting to the cold chill down her spine. Stiffly, she asked, "What did he tell you, _exactly_?"

Realizing she had crossed a line she wasn't aware of, Leliana hesitantly replied, "Just that Morrigan interfered with Grey Warden business and then she disappeared. That's it – no actual details…"

Visibly, Drea relaxed her muscles as she shifted to lean back against her desk. "Then he does still know how to be a Grey Warden." Leliana gave Drea a quizzical look, but was quiet. As Drea looked at her dearest friend she was suddenly unsure how to continue. Nothing had changed and yet she was aware of this wall that dropped between them. Of all the things Leliana was to her, she was not a Grey Warden. Her mouth went dry as she tried to think of how to tell her what she needed to without giving away her secrets. "Look, I...despite Alistair's personal preferences, Morrigan is still a friend. She did interfere with Warden business but she did it to save me. Both Alistair and I agreed to it, so his attitude after the fact is especially unfair. I beg you not to take it on. She's a friend in danger and I need to help her."

Seeing Drea suddenly search for words, Leliana knew she would never get the whole story. Suddenly she too was aware of the wall between them. Quietly she asked, "What could be a threat to her?"

"Flemeth is alive."

The colour drained from Leliana's face at the short statement. "That can't be true. I saw her body myself."

"And I saw _no_ body myself," Drea sighed. "After some suspicious things were happening in my arling, we went to the Wilds to investigate any connection. Lil, the clearing was empty. There was no dragon carcass; there wasn't even a rotting human body. And almost to mock me, she even left me a note. And now Morrigan believes she is safe when she's in more danger than ever. Her child isn't safe either."

"Child?" Leliana whispered, her eyes were wide with all the shocking news.

"She interfered with Warden business and left with child," Drea repeated, not giving any other details. "And I might be wrong but I think her child has the potential to be more powerful than any mage we've ever known. I don't know what Flemeth wants but I don't think she could resist that sort of power. I have no idea where to even begin, but I have to get to Morrigan first."

"She's in Orlais!" Leliana blurted.

It was Drea's turn to be stunned. "What?"

With excited gestures, Leliana added, "Yes! While I was there I had heard stories of a mysterious new woman in the Royal Court. Everything about her matched – her description, her attitude, the timing…but I dismissed it because this mystery woman was with child. But…it _was_ her!"

Instantly on her feet and striding towards the door, Drea replied, "Then we have to go to Orlais. I have to talk to Bodahn…"

Realizing Drea's new mission had to take precedence over their conversation, Leliana hurried to step out of the way. "We aren't done here, you know."

Stopping at the door to give Leliana an apologetic glance, she agreed, "I know."


	27. Casts a Shadow

_Author's Note: I'm so excited to have more people interested in this story! Just a warning, I'm right on the tail end but I hope you enjoy :D_

* * *

**~Casts a Shadow~**

"No, Bodahn, I have to talk to Sandal," Drea insisted, trying to stop the frustration from taking over her tone.

"I understand Commander, but this takes all his concentration. If I let you in there, it will just slow him down," Bodahn begged her to listen to reason.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Drea replied decisively, "He may not be finished all of them, but I can't wait. I'm leaving with whatever is ready." Bodahn opened his mouth to reply, but she turned away from him and pushed her way through the door.

Sitting at the table with his hands folded in front of him, Sandal calmly looked at Drea. It was as though he was expecting her. In his slow, deliberate way of speaking, Sandal quietly greeted her, "Hello."

Drea hesitated in the door way, "Sandal?" He only smiled shyly in return before he dropped his gaze to the floor. Keeping her tone light, she added, "I'm glad I caught you on a break Sandal, because I was hoping to talk to you."

Sandal looked up again and glanced between Drea and Bodahn, but remained silent. Carefully, Drea pushed on, "Sandal, I need to ask you about the runes."

Before she could ask her question, Sandal announced, "You're leaving tomorrow."

Again Drea hesitated and glanced at Bodahn who kept focused on his adopted son. Looking past him to the door, she realized he must have heard them talking before she came in. Turning back she nodded in agreement, "Yes, I am leaving tomorrow. I was hoping to take some of the finished runes with me."

"They'll be ready for tomorrow," he replied, smiling proudly.

Drea pursed her lips together in doubt. When she first spoke to the dwarves of her plan for the runes, Bodahn was quick to dismiss it as impossible. Sandal, however, seemed thrilled by the idea and quickly agreed to try. Despite Sandal's childlike excitement, Drea could see on Bodahn's face that she'd be lucky if it actually worked out. Having it completed within a week seemed too good to be true. "All of them?" Drea finally asked.

"All ready to for tomorrow," he confirmed before adding, "Just like we planned."

A knot suddenly formed in her stomach and after another awkward silence, Drea asked, "Who's 'we' Sandal? _I _just found out that I'm leaving tomorrow."

"All ready for tomorrow," he innocently repeated as he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, Bodahn drowned Sandal out as he loudly spoke to Drea, "There you see? It's no problem then, everything will be ready for when you go."

"I'm hungry," Sandal complained before he turned back to the rune he had been working on.

"Just keep working, I'll get you some food my boy," Bodahn promised as he started ushering Drea from the room.

Firmly planting her feet before he whisked her out the door, Drea whispered to Bodahn, "What is this? Is he saying he knew a week ago what would happen today?"

Nervously chuckling, Bodahn shook his head, "Absolutely not, I assure you."

"Because I've had about all I can take for magical surprises," she added, humourlessly.

"Magic?" his chuckle was less nervous as he replied more confidently, "Dwarves are immune to magic; there is no magic here. The boy just says things but he's harmless. It's like I told you, he's been like this ever since I found him in the Deep Roads. He might even have a touch of lyrium poisoning, who knows?"

His words came out in a rush as he opened the door and tried to guide her out. Reluctantly, Drea followed him out of the room.

There was nothing more to be said about Sandal's odd comments but it stayed on her mind for quite some time. Even as she found herself in her study, waiting for the others, that brief encounter played over in her head. Did he simply think the project would only take him a week or did he really know she was leaving so soon? Who did he mean when he said we? If, as Bodahn claimed, he says odd things often, what else has he said? If her need to leave wasn't so great, she would have forced some more answers.

The opening door interrupted her cycling thoughts. Guided by Seneschal Varel, the people she requested all filed into the room. Within moments, the three had joined her around the table: Nate, Anders, and Leliana. After giving a deep bow to Drea, Varel seemed more than happy to leave the room.

Looking between the faces of those in the room, it was impossible to miss the misery staring back. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and for a moment Drea wondered if it was as stupid as it seemed to have Nate and Leliana around the same table. Yet it was unavoidable. Keeping her expression neutral, she started, "Morrigan is in Orlais."

Nate and Anders subtly exchanged glances while Leliana continued to stare forward. When no one replied, Drea continued, "So our next move is to follow her."

Forcing himself not to acknowledge Leliana, Nate stared hard at Drea as he questioned, "Us? The exact people in this room?"

Subconsciously, Drea began to rub the back of her neck as she nodded. Gently skirting around the awkwardness, Drea replied, "I know it might not seem…ideal…but I have a plan and the only way it's going to work is with precise ranged skills." Blankly, the three watched her, not offering any comments to ease the uncomfortable feeling in the room. Abruptly, she clarified, "You two aren't just the best archers here. You are the best I have ever seen. Leliana, you're not one of my Wardens, so it's your decision if you help. But there is no one else who can do this."

"So," Anders interrupted before Leliana could reply, "What do you need from me then?"

Ashlyn had only been free for a short time but Drea could already see the life back in Anders' eyes as he regarded her curiously. Inwardly Drea braced herself, already knowing her next words would upset him, "I need you to stay here."

Much as she expected, his curious expression instantly soured as he blurted, "What? But I'm a mage – I can fight at a distance. It's kind of our thing…"

"You _are_ a mage," Drea solemnly agreed, "And that's why I can't have you there. I don't know what to expect exactly, but we might be heading into another Flemeth-loaded trap. If that's the case, I can't walk into that with a mage."

Scoffing, Anders argued, "The best way to battle a mage is with a Templar or another mage. Since we don't happen to have a Templar with us…"

"No," Drea firmly spoke over him. "Flemeth knows old magic. She _is_ old magic. What if bringing a mage with us is just bringing her another weapon? I will not underestimate her again."

His doubtful expression spoke for him, and Drea added, "Anders, I need you here. Nate has managed to get five recruits from Captain Garevel and tonight…" Drea paused long enough to sneak a glance at Leliana. Trying to sound natural, she finished, "tonight we're going to induct them. They'll need a Warden to be with them – I need you to stay."

"You mean you need me to babysit," Anders bitterly corrected her.

"I need you to guide them. The order will need a leader," she replied matter-of-factly.

Anders hesitated for a moment as he caught the odd tone in her voice. "You sound as if you don't plan on coming back."

Everything was happening so quickly that she had no time to give it thought. But hearing those words out loud, she realized that at least part of her believed it was true. Seriously, she answered, "I think it's fair to say the odds are against me."

"They're always against you," he replied carefully.

"And it's high time I start planning for the odds," she agreed.

"All the more reason you need me there," he argued, "What about the runes, won't one of those keep me safe so I can keep you safe?"

Finally sighing, Drea shook her head, "I won't have enough. Anders, I need you to listen to me. I am your Commander, and I am telling you to stay here."

Tinges of pink flushed to his cheeks as his words came out more heatedly, "But I'm not a leader! If you're going out there to get yourself killed, you can't leave _me_ the one in charge here."

"When Nate returns, you can relinquish the authority to him then," Drea offered.

Frowning, Nate opened his mouth to argue, but Anders gave him no time before he shot back, "_If_ he returns! If you don't make it back, what makes you think he will? And even if it works out that way – you are traveling to Orlais! Realistically, this is still leaving me in command for months. You can't possible think that's a good idea!"

Drea's gaze grew distant as she seemed to stare past the mage at something no one else could see. After a moment, she replied, "I told you not to thank me the day I recruited you, Anders. I told you I was just trading you one prison for another."

Seeing the conversation was officially ended, he spoke with a distinct coldness, "Then there's nothing more to discuss here?" Slowly, she shook her head. Drawing himself to his feet, he looked at the two archers, "Then I wish you all the best of luck." After nodding his head to Drea, he briskly walked from the room.

As the door closed loudly behind him, Drea's heart dropped. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate the man who had been at her side through so much. But she had no time for tact – something which was never her strong suit to begin with. In the uncomfortable stillness that followed his exit, she was painfully aware of the two sets of eyes burning a hole through her. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to start in on her plan.

* * *

"_And why exactly are we running back east, hmm?_" She thought quietly to herself, "_Are you a scared child after all, just wanting the comfort of home? Or do you actually believe you'll be safe there?_"

Like a ghost, Flemeth watched Morrigan from a distance as she continued to scramble over the rocky terrain along the coast. She was in her human form and clearly exhausted. Her skin was so pale it was almost grey and her sunken eyes were rimmed with dark circles. Finally, her son began to cry as she roughly stumbled over the unstable rocks. Morrigan glanced at the material binding him to her torso to make sure he was secure but made no move to comfort him. Numbly, she carried on.

"_Run, run little mouse_," Flemeth silently urged her daughter on. The more Morrigan wore herself down, the easier it would be to swoop in and take all she wanted.


	28. Truth be Told

_Author's Note: I tried to catch all the mistakes but I also really wanted to get this out. Hopefully any errors you catch aren't enough to take you out of the story! :)_

* * *

**~Truth be Told~**

Drea lay motionless on the bed, staring out into the darkness. From somewhere in the room, she heard the drawn out sigh of Arkon, letting her know he was there and also awake. Even without words, he always seemed to know when she was upset. Letting out a sigh of her own, she tried to focus on the sound of the gentle rain outside. The normally hypnotic sound was only a reminder that the wet ground could be a problem on their travel in the morning. Rolling over, as she had been doing all night, Drea buried her face into the pillow and tried desperately to get some sleep. But instead, unsurprisingly, the evening played over again in her mind.

"_You are not going to brush me off – we are going to talk about this," Nate demanded. _

"_How about we talk about the fact that we're leaving to find Morrigan?" Drea countered._

"_I saw the way you looked at her," he replied, refusing to be swayed from his point._

"_I missed her. I'm glad she's alive," she answered defensively._

_Nate's hands curled into fists as he took a step away from Drea. Forcing his hands open again, he tightly crossed his arms. "You are as in love with her now as you ever were," he stated flatly._

_He remained calm, but she could see the hurt and anger in his eyes. Trying to side step the conversation was only going to make it worse, but she was at a loss. Her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she asked, "What do you want me to say, Nate?"_

"_So that's it then," he sighed, swallowing back his rage, "Even after I told you I didn't want to get involved if your heart was still with her. You still let me…" Words finally failed him and he shook his head bitterly. Dropping his arms to his side, he raised his chin as he strode past her to leave the room._

"_No Nate, it's not like that," Drea grabbed his arm as he past._

_Jerking his arm away, he spun around and with more anger finally breaking into his tone he asked, "Then tell me, what is it exactly?"_

_She had no answer. All her focus was on preparing to leave and she had given little thought to all the chaos she felt once Leliana reappeared. Part of her knew she was falling into her usual habit of ignoring everything in lieu of the next crisis. But part of her also grew frustrated that everyone seemed to think it was so easy to process so many things at once. _

_Her hesitant silence was more than Nate could handle. "That's what I thought," he fumed, "Let me know if you figure it out." The door slammed behind him. Stunned, Drea stared at the closed door, feeling the emptiness pressing in around her. _

Feeling the warm breath on her neck, Drea knew Arkon was standing by the bed. Turning her head towards him, she sighed, "I know. This isn't working, is it?" Sadly, Arkon huffed in reply. With a weary smile, Drea reached over to scratch behind his ear as she relented, "Fine. Let's get up."

After quickly wrapping up in her robe and slipping on a light pair of shoes, Drea quietly escaped her empty room. Following closely behind her, the sound of Arkon's claws lightly tapping on the stone floor was the only sound from the pair. Guided by the hallway torches, they made their way past the other rooms and towards the kitchen. Pushing open the door, she was surprised to see the kitchen was already lit. Scanning the room, her eyes fell onto the fiery haired dwarf, sitting casually at the table. Raising his mug, he greeted her, "Fancy meeting you here, Commander."

Offering him a shrug, she moved past him to the pantry. After giving Arkon a bone that was left out for him, she continued on to pour herself a glass of wine. A large one. As Arkon trotted off to a corner of the room to work on his bone in peace, Drea settled in across from Oghren. "I thought you never drank before you went out on the open road?" Oghren asked lightly. Unimpressed, Drea wordlessly glared. "Hey, I'm not one to judge," he reminded her as he downed a mouthful of his ale.

"So…the Joining went well tonight. Four new Wardens," he tried again to make conversation. There had been five recruits. Drea remained quiet. Finally, Oghren asked, "Are you sure it's a good idea to leave them all with the kid?"

"Why," she asked sharply, "Do you have a problem with Anders?"

Seemingly oblivious to her agitation, Oghren shook his head, "Nah. Sparklefingers is alright. Just not sure it's a good idea to leave him, just him, with all the new Wardens."

Realizing what he was getting at, Drea answered, "The arling is safe; there hasn't been a sighting, much less an attack, in a long time. Now we have to start worrying about the rest of Ferelden. I sent the girls because the sooner they find the Architect, the better. And I need you to leave tomorrow so you can join King Alistair's men before they go on their patrol. The King's heart is in the right place with his plan to patrol along the West Road and Imperial Highway. But without a Grey Warden, we both know how effective that patrol would really be."

"I get it Commander," he huffed, interrupting her explanation, "But right now? Right when you're about to leave too?"

Drea was quiet for a moment as she swirled her wine around in her glass. It did seem odd to everyone for her to suddenly disburse all of her Wardens. "I didn't think I would get a lead on Morrigan so quickly," she admitted. "But I knew when I got back from the Wilds that I would have to leave again soon. I really don't know what to expect but…in case I don't make it back, I just want to have everything set into place."

"Huh," Oghren replied before taking another swig of his drink. "And …you really think it's a good idea to take uh…who you're taking."

"I need archers," Drea answered stiffly.

"Oh right, right. But is there any chance that when you say you might not make it back, that you don't mean you might die?" Drea rose her eyebrow and kept her piercing stare on the dwarf as he finished his sentence. Unconcerned, he shrugged, "You got everything in place with the Wardens and with the arling. Someone like Natey boy could take over at this point."

Setting her glass on the table with a loud clink, Drea finally asked, "What are you implying."

Oghren chuckled loudly, "Oh nothing Commander. You know me; I'm not crafty enough to imply things!" Taking another deep drink from his mug, Drea suspiciously watched him for a bit longer before finally bringing her wine back up to her lips. As she silently enjoyed the warm feeling of the wine making its way down her throat, the only sound in the room was Arkon crunching at his bone.

Draining the last of the ale from his mug, Oghren slid down off the stool with surprising ease. Without hesitation, he strolled up to the large keg set in the corner and poured himself another glass. He poured the ale expertly, showing more proof he was an old pro when it came to anything of an alcoholic nature. As if anyone needed more proof. Coming back over to the table, he set the full glass down before hoisting himself back up on the stool. Once he was settled again, he sighed, "I really did care for Felsie you know."

Still guarded, her eyes narrowed slightly as she asked, "Then why did you leave?"

Staring into the fresh foam at the top of his mug, Oghren answered simply, "Because I'm a warrior." His words were eerily similar to what Drea had said in the past about herself. Hearing nothing from Drea, he glanced up and continued, "I wanted to be content playing house Commander, I did. But it caught up with me; I just couldn't be happy. We were fighting all the time and in the end I think she was just glad to see me go."

For a moment, Drea tried to think of something to say, still not sure if he was trying to set her up for another dig. Not giving her much time for her internal debate, Oghren carried on. "Ah, Felsie. Did you know I have a son?"

Drea's suspicions suddenly disappeared with his shocking statement, "What?"

"A son," Oghren repeated.

Incredulously, she breathed, "And you still left?"

"Oh climb down off your bronto Commander," Oghren gruffly replied, "I had no idea when I left, and neither did Felsie. She wrote me from Redcliff after I settled here. The icy wench was sure to tell me she didn't want me to come back though, just wanted me to know. Can't help feeling like I'm missing out on something." Oghren let out a long sigh as he shrugged his shoulders, "I was kind of thinking of stopping by there once the new Wardens were sent to relieve me on patrol."

Slowly, Drea nodded, "If you can convince her to move here, I will set you up in one of the houses at the Keep. There are a few just being used for storage."

"Ha," he laughed, "I'll try. But doubt she'll be interested." Tapping his fingers on table in front of him, he began to gesture as he spoke, "Sometimes, no matter what we think is right, who you are…your nature or whatever you want to call it…always wins out in the end. Your love for someone is stone but your nature is water. You might think stone is stronger but dwarves know better. You put stone under a waterfall and the water will erode it. Eventually it will be turned into something you don't even recognize anymore. Or, in the case of Branka, it's a whirpool that destroys everything in its path…"

At the mention of Branka, Oghren trailed off, falling quiet. Awkwardly, Drea waited for him to finish, but he seemed lost in thought. "So, what are you saying?" she pushed.

"Huh?" Oghren asked before realizing he stopped in mid sentence, "Oh. Well if the stone and water get along, you're set. Stone that holds a pool of water won't get destroyed." There was a slight slur starting to his words as he clumsily finished, "Commander, you're a noble's kid and now a noble in your own right. If you are anything like the nobles back home, _this_ is in your blood. For better or worse."

"I thought we were talking about you and Felsie here," the defensiveness returned to Drea's tone, "What's your point."

Oghren paused long enough to down most of his ale. Wiping the foam from his moustache, he replied, "Just that you should think about who you are Commander. Think about it before you decide anything else. Ancestors know I didn't."

As he stared off, she could see the haunted look in his eye. Guilt was never something she thought he would be capable of. "I've never heard you talk like this before Oghren," Drea commented, steering slightly away from his point, "This is more the sort of thing I'd expect to hear from Wynne."

Pushing away the gloom, a large grin plastered across Oghren's face as he rose his glass to her words. "Well, there's a brief time where I drink myself sober again. I don't like it much, but at least it doesn't last long," his last words were cut off by a hiccup as if to accent the point.

"That's too bad. I'm kind of enjoying the insightful Oghren," Drea smiled.

"I'm inside what now?" Oghren asked as he plunked his empty glass onto the table. Waving dismissively, he added, "Nevermind. I'm going to go try and get some sleep. I gotta go before your nughumper of a dog tries to steal my pants again." Arkon stopped chewing long enough to look up in confusion.

Sliding off the stool, Oghren stumbled slightly as he headed towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to Drea, "Goodbye Commander. I really hope you're here when I come back."

The door quietly clicked shut as he closed it with surprising gentleness.


End file.
